


Square One

by TheNerdVoice



Series: Robinson [4]
Category: Holby City
Genre: Blending Family, F/F, Family, Gun Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Conditions, Medical Procedures, Medical Trauma, Mum's Girl, TBI, back to basics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-07-06 14:52:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 24
Words: 26,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15888264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNerdVoice/pseuds/TheNerdVoice
Summary: After their daughter requires surgery once more, Marcus and Bernie find themselves at odds over her home care. Serena and Cameron decide they need to help Charlotte make her own decisions over her care when they notice the infighting is causing her stress. Cameron finds himself in a terrible predicament at the medic center, with awful results.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

>  
> 
>   
> 
> 
> The next step in this series. Square One comes into play twice, both what I plan to write and in terms of the characters. Hopefully it doesn't suck too much as we jump in head on.
> 
>  **Quick recap from previous entries** , Charlotte Wolfe (Dunn) suffered a Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI) after circumstances at a party. Because of her injury, she had some intense memory loss and previous entries to this series takes one on a journey through one hardship after another. Not remembering (or even feeling anymore) her bond with her father, forcing Bernie to realize just how much pain she's caused to her daughter when she doesn't want her to leave. This all makes the family, including Serena, reevaluate their relationships with one another. After a month in the hospital, and a month or so at home...here we are.
> 
> This takes place a little over a week after the last entry ends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter begins a little over a week after the events of the last story, _Faded_. If you haven't read that story, or the others, first...you may become a little lost. Just a heads up.

Serena Campbell enters the virtually quiet home she shares with her girlfriend and step-daughter. She closes her eyes slightly, hearing the familiar sound of retching coming from upstairs. She closes her eyes a moment, taking a deep breath before continuing. She reaches into her large leather bag, retrieving the saline drip and necessary connects that her partner had requested she ‘borrow’ from the supply closet at work, as well as a filled prescription she’s written for her step-daughter. Serena carefully walks up the stairs, feet heavy from a such a long day.

 

“Okay, Serena’s bringing something home so we can get you hydrated at least.” Bernie gently strokes Charlotte’s back as she rests against her. “I’ve phoned Roxanna and moved your appointment up. I think you may just have the stomach virus we’ve been seeing in AAU, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

 

Charlotte seems a bit more lethargic than usual, her body holding shape only just a bit more than a ragdoll. “I don’t like this.”

 

“I know, neither do I.” She shakes her head, “your immunity is rather low and we need to try in introducing your body to better foods that help build that...foods that aren’t only pizza.” She attempts to make her smile, cheer her up if only a little bit. “When we stop at Holby tomorrow, I want you to wear a mask. It will offer a little protection, but some is better than none at all.”

 

“What if Ms. Mac says I’m dying?” The young woman closes her eyes a bit, absently taking in her mother’s soothing smell of honey and chocolate.

 

“Impossible.” Bernie hides her fear with a reassuring closed mouth smile toward the girl, “I refuse to allow it. Not on my watch.”

 

“Or mine.” Serena playfully scowls toward the younger woman, taking in the sight of them on the tiled floor. “Still not feeling too hot, are we?” She moves closer, sitting on the edge of the clawfoot bathtub. Out of habit, she places the back of her hand against the young woman’s forehead, “No fever.”

 

“She hasn’t had one.” The blond sighs, moving her daughter’s arm like a mannequin to offer it to her partner, completely weak, “Care to do the honors, Ms. Campbell?” 

 

The silver haired woman hums, “I know she’s only been this way for a few days, but I would have had her admitted.” Serena holds the bag of saline on her lap, effortlessly gliding an intravenous line into the young woman’s arm. “I’ve another in my bag downstairs. My gut is telling me that this is not just another postictal stage. Her issues are growing more frequent and she’s becoming less and less aware of her surroundings.”

 

“I know where I am. I am right here.” Charlotte can hardly keep her eyes open, “In the kitchen.”

 

Bernie notices her girlfriend’s eyebrow raise, “Ric is in now?”

 

“He is, but...she should go up to Darwin. I can give them a ring and-”

 

“I don’t want to go to hospital. I’m fine. I’m just bloody tired...and hungry. I didn’t even eat all day.” Charlie mumbles, rubbing her face against her mother’s chest as her head rests against it. “Tell Dad to get pizza.”

 

“As I said.” Serena nods, setting the bag of saline on the ledge of the bathtub before standing, “Let me give them a call and I’ll help you get her ready.”

 

“I don’t want to go anywhere. Mum...tell her.” She begins to grow upset, “She wants me to go away.”

 

“Serena wants you to be safe and healthy, neither of which you are right now. No one wants you to go anywhere...your home is here.” Bernie feels as the girl falls out of consciousness. She rubs her hand over her own face, emotionally and physically exhausted. “Just phone an ambulance. I think it will be easier to transport that way.”

 

Serena nods a little, watching her girlfriend for just a moment, “I’ll get her changed, if you want to wash up a bit.” This has become the new normal for them. Tending to Bernie’s daughter this way, her step-daughter. Something about her reminds Serena a great deal of her Elinor and she hasn’t been able to figure out what that may be. “Berenice, she’ll be fine.”

 

“You don’t know that.” The blonde reaches up to flush the toilet of the sick within it, tears brim her eyes that she refuses to acknowledge as she carefully slides out from under her daughter.

 

“I do though. She has you in her.” The silver haired woman stops her partner from just walking past. “Bern-”

 

“There’ so many calls I need to make-”

 

“I’ll make them.” Serena nods, “I’ll change her clothing into those baby blue, button-up pajamas that we bought her last time and I’ll get changed myself. We’ll both go along with her to hospital. This is just a bump and you know that. Please, tell me you know that.”

 

Bernie leans her forehead near her partner’s shoulder, “Just...call Ric. See if he can have a bed ready. If she needs to be transferred up to Darwin, we can do that, but I’d...I’d rather he handle this if Roxanna isn’t there currently.”

 

“Whatever you wish, darling.” Her voice quiet, yet honest at the same time. She carefully wraps her arms around the woman, sure not to get whatever remnants of sick are on her partner’s cotton shirt. “I’ll take care of it.”

 

“You just walked in the door, Campbell. I’ve been with her all the day long. I can’t depend on you to-”

 

“That’s what people do for those they love. I’m not about to leave your side.”

 

Bernie lifts her head, leaning in to press her lips against her girlfriend’s. Tender and incredibly intimate between them. “I don’t deserve you.”

 

“Shut up.” Serena smirks, motioning with a tilt of her head for her girlfriend to tend to what they had planned. Once the woman leaves the room, she finds herself looking over the young woman on the floor, absently taking vitals with what she can. Pulse is relatively normal, on the low side, but normal. No fever. Hopefully this isn’t anything too awful, but her hope and her luck is fading quickly.


	2. Chapter 2

“Busy night.” Yuki Flynn wheels her office chair back form the main counter of the medic assist center, they were taking in about ten an hour. Far too much for the staff to adequately handle. She was doing her best while keeping tensions in the waiting area as low as possible.

 

“Tell me about it.” Cameron Dunn glances up at the waiting area sorting screen. “Finished the four sutures patients, one concussion, one woman in labor...sent her off to Saint James gyno.” He smirks a little, “Thought this would be fine enough.”

 

“Was she out completely bonkers?”

 

“I had Andy take her. Said her husband is military and this is her fifth. I couldn’t imagine one, much less five.” The young man shakes his head, “So...number four, you think it’s an opioid addict issue?” Noticing the slight nod from the woman in the chair, “What makes you think that?”

 

“Complaining of headache that he can’t get rid of. Outward appearance of a burner.” Yuki explains quickly, “I mean, do as you please, take a look at him if you must, I just don’t see the need for it. However, you’re the doctor here, not me.”

 

Cam smirks ever so slightly, “Thing is, it happens to my sister on the regular and I...like to take these sorts of things a bit more seriously.” When he notices the assistant look to him cautiously, he continues, “She suffered a fractured skull and TBI a few months ago. She has seizures, long parietal moments with confusion and extreme weakness, nowadays she’s confined to a wheelchair. She tries to go without sometimes, but falls...and when that happens, it means she’s at risk for another brain bleed if she hits her head on the way down. Headaches, in that instance, can be life threatening.” He pauses, glancing back up toward the list of patients, “Because of that, I’ve learned to take even the most mild of symptoms seriously.”

 

She nods a little, “You’re a good egg, Dr. Dunn.”

 

“Tell my mother that.” He hums, glancing forward when a patient, the patient in question knocks on the window, “I’ll be with you in just a moment. Just needed to-”

 

“I can’t wait anymore, Doc. I got here nearly two hours ago...so many people have gone in front of me.” The middle aged man in haggard clothing and wool knit cap groans.

 

“Two...” Cam pauses, realizing what the nurse was doing instead of working as a desk manager, “I was just talking about how I-”

 

“Too long, it’s taking too long.” He produces a handgun from under the many layers of clothing he wear, pointing it toward the glass, wincing slightly. “So many people have been waiting...because of her. You...Doctor, you’re back there, having no idea what is happening, much less-”

 

“Sir, I apologize for the confusion.” He maintains an even tone, “If you would please lower your weapon, I’ll be able to treat you...as well as the others in this room that have been waiting just as long.” Cam thinks of ringing his father to ask if he could help out a bit, but decides against it. “You have a headache, correct?”

 

“It’s too late for that.”

 

Cameron takes a deep breath, “What’s your name?”

 

“My...it doesn’t matter.” The man appears flustered, shaking his head a little.

 

“It matters to me. You were in the military...I want to know who I have the honor of thanking.” He swallows hoping he’s correct, “I come from a military family.” When the man seems confused, he continues, “the way you hold that Browning...it tells me you’ve been trained extensively. You didn’t obtain it via illegal methods. You know what you’re doing.”

 

“My name is John...John Brittingham.” He pauses, “Lieutenant...Lieutenant John Brittingham.”

 

Cameron sighs a little with relief, glad he was correct, “Pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant Brittingham. Will you allow one of my nurses to escort you back to a room?”

 

Brittingham appears incredibly nervous, agitated, gripping his head with his free hand, “Just give me something for the pain.”

 

“I’d really prefer to give you a proper assessment.” It appears the man is calming a bit, someone steps up behind him readying to restrain him. Cameron begins to shake his head toward the other person.

 

Everything seems to happen very quickly. The pistol erupts in fire, a body falls, a cry is heard. An ambulance is phoned, Holby City Hospital after that. Two patients worth immediate attention, and a waiting room who needs help as well. ED and AAU are properly staffed and people will be taken care of efficiently.

 

Donna Jackson lowers the telephone to it's receiver, glancing over toward the current AAU consultant on duty, “We’re about to get a crowd. Medic center. Two critical. GSW and-”

 

“Is the GSW conscious?” Ric Griffin reads over a file in his hands, "They consider all GSW to be critical when they're brought in." The department is relatively quiet for the day, no run offs from ED, everything was working out just fine. He anticipates the arrival of Charlotte Wolfe any moment now, which he’s already allotted space for in their intensive treatment room and added her to the board since she was en route. Now this.

 

“Yes, paramedics had to convince him to come in.” She shakes her head a little, “GSW who needed convincing. Mentally unstable, I’d reckon.” Donna’s tone lighthearted, never one to judge someone too quickly. “Do you want me to ready Trauma Bay for that one?”

 

“That would be perfect.”


	3. Chapter 3

“GSW, male, age-” The medic begins to call out.

 

“I can talk for myself.” The young man sighs from his place on the stretcher, “GSW LLQ, no exit wound, minimal visual external bleeding. Male, twenty-seven, who loves volunteer work and traveling.” The man before him offers an unimpressed look, “I know you were probably expecting to get a work out of that Trauma Bay, but not today. I could probably just head to Kel-” He pauses, “No, not safe there either. My parents swarm all over this place these days. Uh...how about-”

 

“You know, another one of you Wolfe cubs gets admitted and they’re going to need to build you lot a wing.” Donna smirks a bit, “Are you in pain, Cam?”

 

“No, not really.” Cam shakes his head a little, sliding over to the hospital’s gurney on his own, no need for the medics to even help him. “The man that was brought in with me, I believe he’s way worse off than I am. Tend to him before you tend to me.”

 

“He’s gone off to ED. Aren’t you the lucky one?” Ric takes a look at the wound site, sighing softly, “I need to know where that bullet currently is before I try to remove it. Let’s get imaging on the line. Your sister is down there at this very moment. We’ll make it a family affair.”

 

He furrows his brow, shaking his head a little, “Wait, Charlie’s here? Is she okay?”

 

“If she were okay, she wouldn’t be here, Mr. Dunn. She hasn’t been feeling too great and your mothers decided it was best to bring her in.” Ric explains, “I’m unsure if your father is upstairs, but-”

 

“I, honestly, would rather none of them know I’m even here right now. Charlie’s far more important.” Cameron sighs softly, meaning every word. He knows that if his mother and her partner thought to bring her to hospital instead of treating what they could at home, it is worse than Ric cares to let on.

 

“Whoever shot you, what was the weapon of choice?”

 

“Pistol. He’s ex-military and...I don’t plan to press charges, so if maybe you could see to it that they treat him well.” He offers, wanting to be with his family while his sister is here, but not wanting them to know of his own plight. “Isn’t there a way to just stitch me up? I’ll come back to have it removed?”

 

Ric raises an eyebrow, “No, there isn’t.” He sighs, meeting the young man’s eyes, “You need to understand something, your wound is no less important because your sister is unwell. You’re important too.”

 

Cameron tilts his head to the side ever so slightly, “Please, just get my prelims going. I’ll  _ borrow _ a hoodie from the employee lockers and head over to her until you’re ready for me to do other things.” He offers, staring the man in the eye. Willing him to deny his plan. Really though, he wouldn’t be leaving the ward.

 

The elder man knows this isn’t an argument he is about to win. He nods after a moment, “I’ll have Donna bring you a hoodie...after I properly assess you and scans return that you haven’t any bleeds.” Ric nods, “I’ll do you a solid and inform my staff not to take you down until Charlotte is brought back up from her MRI.”

 

“Thank you, Mr. Griffin, I truly appreciate it.”

 

Donna smirks, “I thought you were going to be a nutter. They called to tell us they had to persuade you to get in the ambulance.” She nods, “Aren’t you glad they did now?” She readies an intravenous line to his arm, knowing from her many years of being a nurse that securing a line for a gunshot wound was most important. She lifts her head, glancing to the monitors for a blood pressure reading.

 

“Less so.” The corner of Cam’s mouth turns up in a smirk.

 

“BP ninety-two over sixty-five.” The young woman glances to the surgeon next to her.

 

“Oh, come on.” Cameron leans his head back on the gurney, knowing exactly what that means for him.

 

“I apologize, Mr. Dunn. It’s straight to theater with you. Internal bleeding is a strong possibility.” Ric pulls up the side rail of the young man’s bed, “We’ll figure out where the bullet is, but...this is far more important.” He sighs slightly, glancing to his nurse once more, “Call around and see who we can get down here. I’m only one person and the other two who are usually called have a family emergency...and they can’t treat Charlie anyway.” 

 

Donna nods again, helping them pull the bed from the room, but instead of following to theater, she breaks off from the pack, moving to the telephones of the nurses’ station. She takes her time to call the main wards that could service her unit, surprised at the one who didn’t hesitate in the least to say  _ yes _ .


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bernie is more of a realist. lol.

Bernie leans back in the vinyl seat within the confines of the ITU room, tears sprinkle her eyes, “I was being selfish...I knew she had fallen. The night I watched Gwen, and you came home early. Remember?” She shakes her head, “All the signs are there. Just waiting on test results to tell us what we already know.”

 

“Darling, please calm down. We’re professionals when it comes to her care now. We don’t know if she actually hit her head or if we’re just...over reacting.” Serena explains, sighing. “I phoned Marcus, he was just getting in after a busy sixteen hour shift. I told him to rest and I’ll ring him back when we find something out.” She reaches over, placing her hand over her partner’s as they each rest on either side of the bed. “If the symptoms presented are, in fact, a small hemorrhage, I’ll tend to her. I’m a vascular surgeon. This is my bread and butter, Berenice.”

 

“You’re also much closer to her than you were before.” Her voice quiet, holding her girlfriend’s hand over top of the her daughter’s sleeping form, glancing up toward the monitors, “I wish Ric would just...at least bring in her results.” Looking toward the door when she notices it begin to open.

 

Henrik Hanson steps in, clothing perfect, shoes shined. “Good evening.” Tablet computer in his hand, “If you all wouldn’t mind, Mr. Griffin has found himself in theater with a GSW and an influx of patients to the ward. I’m here to help and will be taking over Charlotte’s care to ease the burden.”

 

Serena offers him a soft smile, “That’s perfectly fine, Henrik.” She knows the man to be meticulous in everything he does, including surgery. Never just a simple stitch up, she was surprised when he agreed to be on Keller ward and not Darwin when Abigail Tate offered it to him.

 

He senses Bernie’s worry, far greater than any way he’s ever seen her. “Your presumed suspicions were probably correct.” He knows they would attempt to diagnose without any tests returned. “Seems the younger Ms. Wolfe is suffering from a small subdural hematoma. Once I finish with informing you both, she will be taken to theater post haste, where I will perform a craniotomy...remeding her situation to the best of my abilities.”

 

“Of course.” The silver haired woman nods, “Would you like for me to assist?”

 

“I’m afraid that will not be necessary...as I’d rather not have Ms. Tate at my coattails with ethics questions.” Henric opens the door once more, “My best is all I can promise to you both.” He leaves the room quietly with a nod.

 

Bernie swallows, “I...have a really bad feeling about today.” She shakes her head slowly, “She asked me if she was going to die and...I told her what I wanted her to hear...what I was comfortable with.”

 

“Let’s not go into that right now, please.” Serena swallows, reaching a hand up to stroke the young woman’s hair, “Let’s go and get some coffee downstairs. Procedure should take a few hours. I’ll phone Marcus and Cameron...possibly Jason, because he doesn’t like to be left out.”

 

Charlotte opens her eyes ever so slightly, “Gretta...Jason overreacts.” Her speech mumbled, drawn out, “Mum’s girl...”

 

The blonde on the opposite side of the bed gives her an amused expression, “Charlie, you’re about to go into surgery. Henric Hanson-”

 

“Ric?”

 

Bernie shakes her head a little, “Someone else came in while we were waiting for your tests, but that doesn’t matter. They’re going to prep you and take you in straight away. While you’re under, I will remain here. Wild horses won’t be able to drag me away.”

 

“Go get coffee.” Charlotte smiles softly. “I love you, Mum.” Staff members enter to transport her to surgery, watching as the young woman is disconnected from various monitors, making her transfer quick and easy.

 

She feels herself growing a bit upset, nodding, “I love you too, Sweetheart.” Bernie leans down to the bed, pressing a kiss against her temple, watching as they cart her off. The room empty except for herself and her partner. A tear escapes the corner of her eye, something about that incredibly small exchange with her daughter feels final. She bites her lip, chin dimpling with emotion. Bernie is terrified, an emotion she’s rarely ever felt, except when it comes to her own children.

 

Serena can sense it, having felt the same, but knowing she couldn’t possibly vocalize it. She moves closer to her girlfriend, wrapping her arms tightly around her. “She’s in good hands, darling.” If only she could believe it herself, “Like she told us, let us go downstairs and get something warm to drink...maybe a piece of cake to go with it? Are you hungry?”

 

“I’m not anything at the moment.” Bernie knows this is her fault. No fever, the massive increase in confusion. She should have recognized it right away. Once again, she proves herself to be a terrible mother. “How can you be hungry at a time like this?” Her voice quiet and she catches herself just staring out.

 

“Because I didn’t get an opportunity for supper.” The silver haired woman sighs, pressing a kiss against her girlfriend’s temple. “Bernie, come on. It’s just downstairs. I’ll let Donna know where we’ve gone off to and I have my mobile. We’ll be able to be reached.” To be completely honest, she’s never seen her partner this gutted. She pulls the woman along gently, needing to get out of this room overall. Knowing it’s the cause of her mind racing and that of her girlfriend as well.

 

“If things don’t work out in theater-”

 

“Optimism, darling.” Serena says quietly, not willing to let the woman’s hand go, “A little goes a long way.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Suction.” Ric pushes through some of the healthy intestines in search for the bullet lodged in Cameron Dunn’s abdomen. “Okay, I think we finally have it here.”

 

Donna watches carefully, “I just don’t understand how he remained so calm through it all. He had to be lying when I questioned him about his pain levels.” She sighs, shaking her head, “All the while he was worried about his patient receiving adequate care.” 

  
“Well, it was probably a simple case of shock. He wouldn’t feel anything.” The surgeon holds a free hand out, “Clamp.” The piece is placed into his hand quickly by his attending nurse, “Cameron has the ability to be a great doctor when given the opportunity.” 

 

“He seems that way.” She offers a soft smile, “I didn’t have the opportunity of working with him-”

 

“I did. Ms. Wolfe expected greatness and he didn’t disappoint, but...his heart isn’t into the surgery route. He wants to help people. Simple stitches, writing a prescription, talking to people and being hands on with them...I just believe she may have had different expectations for him. Same with his father.” Ric nods, “My hands are slipping. More suction...also, hold this.” He motions to an area, letting one of the student surgeons help him.

 

“That had to be bizarre...working with his Mum.” Donna tilts her head to the side a little, “Especially with her being so renowned in her field.”

 

“Same with his father. Entire family in the medical field and then you have...” His breath catches a little, finally able to get a hold on the bullet with his clamps. He holds the metal piece up in front of his eye when he finally removes the penetrating offender. “You have Charlotte who wants nothing of it.”

 

She offers a relieved smile, but it seems too soon, “BP dropping.”

 

“There’s another bleed.” Ric hands the bullet off to the F1 before reaching back in, “Right here...liver. Looks as if the bullet grazed it, but...enough damage done.” He nods, “This has gone from a GSW bullet recovery to a partial hepatectomy. Organ seems to have a bit of hepatic steatosis anyhow.”

 

“He seems healthy. Drinker possibly?” Donna raises an eyebrow, “I mean, we all do it, but...” She shrugs a little. “What else can cause hepatic steatosis?”

 

“Diabetes, obesity, poor diet.” He rattles off begrudgingly, “It doesn’t necessarily have to be from alcohol intake.”

 

“Understood.”

 

Ric nods a little, “Did you manage to persuade someone to help out?”

 

“Mr. Hansen, he’s taking over Charlotte’s case. I reckoned it was for the best.” When he glances to her quickly, wanting her to elaborate, “Brain bleed, like you thought.” Her tone downcast, “I just...really hope she pulls through surgery. Charlie seems like a great girl.”

 

“She’s a Wolfe. She has all the tools she needs to survive.” He removes the part of the liver he was referring to, gently placing it into the basin once the object is offered to him. “Same with Mr. Dunn here...maybe he’ll think of hiring some security at his clinic.”

 

“At the very least.” Donna nods, watching as the surgeon in front of her cauterizes small vessels within the remaining portion of the organ. The room falls silent as the surgery progresses, “We should really tell Ms. Wolfe about him being in here.”

 

“I must respect the patient’s wishes...even if it doesn’t make sense and we care deeply for the family they want kept away. I’m certain he has his reasons.” Ric nods, sighing, “Okay.” He says to himself, starting to stitch up the area, “Who is assisting with Mr. Hansen?”

 

“Fletch. He insisted.” She responds quietly.

 

“They could always use more help, I’d bet.” His hands stable and strong, “You should head over after scrubbing up.” The last thing he wants is for his friend to experience the anguish of losing a child, like he and Serena have. He’s already saved the one beneath his fingertips for her. “Or, at least go and see if they need more help.”

 

“Of course.” Donna nods, backing away from the table, carefully removing her smock and gloves. She takes a deep breath, knowing exactly how harrowing the situation is and Berenice Wolfe and Serena Campbell don’t need anymore stress than what they already have. She’s noticed the makeup covering the dark circles underneath both of their eyes may mornings. Ms. Wolfe being much less likely to put in the effort, though that’s just how she is. The young woman smiles to herself as she gives her arms a proper scrub. She exits through the door, catching sight of Roxanna MacMillan entering one of the other theaters.  _ They’ll be just fine. _

 

“I apologize for my lateness. They shut down a large portion of my street.” Roxanna begins to scrub in for the surgery, watching her longtime friend and colleague meticulously standing over the young patient’s form. “Something about the clinic there being fired upon. I haven’t the slightest idea.” She sighs a little.

 

“You’re just in time, actually. I’ve removed a portion of Ms. Wolfe’s-”

 

“She’s my patient and that still sounds bizarre to me.” She enters the room, letting the junior staff help her put her smock and gloves on, securing what needs to be secured. “Where are we?”

 

“I have already removed the portion of the skull, using your work on the previous surgery as a guideline. Same burr hole and whatnot. Very impressive, Ms. Macmillan.” Henrik nods, “I haven’t yet started the evacuation of the hemorrhage. I believe that’s where you come in.”

 

Roxanna nods a little, moving over to the area he was speaking of, “She’s had a few falls, I believe. I’m seeing...some contusions. I wonder if Bernie and Serena know of that.” She inspects the area, gently exposing the dura  and pinning it back, “MRI showed this to be the area of the bleed?”

 

“Yes, luckily, Ms-” He pauses, “Charlotte was kind enough to have that portion of her head already shaven.” He smirks ever so slightly, “Reminds me of you at that age.”

 

“Tell me about it.” She hums a soft chuckle, accepting her usual loupes from the attending nurse. “Fletch, I’m surprised to see you here.”

 

“Well, Donna called round for help. Told me the situation, and I wouldn’t dare miss it.” Fletch answers with certainty, “Poor Charlie’s gone through enough and it’s about time she deserves a break.”

 

“I concur.” Henrik nods, watching as Roxanna gently locates the portion of the brain and draining the hemmorage, “I suspect a tear, but you’re the expert in this field, I am not.”

 

“No, but you’d try to learn.” Roxanna nods, “I’m shocked you were never interested in this field of study. Even at University, I thought for sure you’d follow in line with John and I.” She pauses, waiting a moment before continuing. The small instruments finding the area in question, “I’m almost tempted to leave the craniotomy open...if she isn’t careful she’s going to end up in theater again.”

 

“Traumatic brain injuries are nothing to take lightly, but if the wound is sealed in the same way you did so previously, we shouldn’t have much problem should the issue arise again.”

 

“Okay.” She reaches the portion she was just speaking of, carefully clearing it of its abnormal bloody contents. “Laser.” Her coworker hands it to her carefully, “Your hypothesis was correct, Mr. Hansen. Small tear...big bloody deal.” Roxanna sighs a little.

 

“So, she’ll be okay then?” Fletch raises an eyebrow, obviously concerned with the young woman that the hospital has grown to care deeply for. 

 

Roxanna raises her glance toward the nurse, “She’ll be critical for the next forty-eight to seventy-two hours. She’ll need...ten minute obvs. We need to be careful of fever and swelling...so I believe I may just place a drain for the time being. She isn’t going to like staying in Darwin or Keller for the next couple weeks...so I’m sure we’ll hear about that once she wakes.”

  
“Darwin would be the best place for her, though. Wouldn’t it?” His question simple, “Our entire ward is ITU, just about...and she’ll be close to my office alone.”

 

“I wasn’t going to suggest sending her elsewhere.”

 

Fletch smirks ever so slightly, “Dr. Petrenko will be very happy to hear that.”


	6. Chapter 6

“I just...I don’t understand, Serena. How can you not be terrified?” Bernie stares toward her girlfriend as they stand outside in the Arthur Digby garden. She holds a cigarette between her fingers with no arguments from her partner, a coffee in the other. “We both know brain hemorrhages have a forty percent survival rate. Sixty percent of that forty oftentimes have lasting neurological defects.”

 

“Fifteen percent die before reaching the hospital.” Serena continues, making eye contact, “You forget, I know all about brain injuries. I researched and...lost myself in all the ways Elinor could have been saved.  _ If I had only just seen it sooner,  _ I thought. I know all about this.” She swallows, “I see the positive outcomes of the same issue in Charlotte...because I need to.”

 

She knows she messed up, taking a long drag of her cigarette and just staring forward. “I’m sorry.”

 

“I know.” The silver haired woman feels tears forming in her own eyes, “We have to be optimistic, darling, because the alternative...is not something I believe I can experience again...and I don’t ever want you to feel that anguish. Never. Not if I can help it.”

 

Stubbing out her nearly finished cigarette before placing it in the disposal receptacle, Bernie reaches a hand over, taking hold of her girlfriend’s. “At least she’ll have round the clock care while she’s here.” She nods slowly, “Therapy, all of it...Make it a bit easier for us.” 

 

“We’ll get to sleep.” Serena nods slowly, but not actually caring. “Like we do when we all sleep in the same bed.” She smirks, amused with how ridiculous they were, “All bundled up...with an Agatha Christie mystery on the telly that Charlie solves in the first five minutes and ruins it for the rest of us.”

 

“I think she missed her calling.”

 

“That she did.” She slowly glances over toward her partner, “I’m sorry...I...We just need to be optimistic about all of this.”

 

“Agreed.” Bernie offers a quick, reassuring smirk. She leans over more, gently capturing her girlfriend’s lips with her own. “I love you.”

 

“I love you too, Berenice.” Serena nods, wrapping her arms around the woman, letting them just hold onto one another for a few moments. She feels her mobile begin to vibrate in her pocket, causing her to quickly retrieve it. Text message.  _ In recovery now. No complications. _ She shows her partner the message from Henrik, “Do you see? Optimism goes a long way.”

 

“Were you ever able to get ahold of Cameron?” The blonde lifts her wristwatch in front of her, “He may not have answered before, but he should just be getting off of his shift now.” She holds onto her girlfriend’s hand as they make their way back up towards the hospital. “We won’t hear the end of it if Marcus tells him.”

 

“Very true. I’ll attempt again when we get upstairs.” She doesn’t let go of her girlfriend’s hand, knowing they needed to be strong for one another in order to be strong for Charlotte, through an osmosis of sorts. Serena presses the button for the AAU floor, knowing they’d be allowed entry to Recovery.

 

Ric stands at the end of Cameron’s bed in recovery, reading the areas of his chart he needs to note. Turning a bit when Henrik and Roxanna walk behind Charlotte’s bed, “How did she do?”

 

“It’s a waiting game at this point.” Roxanna nods a little, offering a sad smile. “Yours?” She glances toward his patient, pausing. He looks familiar. She reads his name over Ric’s shoulder, her eyes widening, “Oh, you must be joking.” She shakes her head a little, “Poor Bernie.”

 

Henrik lifts his head, “It may be in the best interest, to make it easier on their parents-”

 

“All three of them.” She folds her arms.

 

“-if they were to both head up to Darwin.” The taller man glances over toward the young man once more. “With a partial hepatectomy, Mr. Dunn will be here for nearly a week, Ms. Wolfe a bit longer. I believe we can accomodate the family for extent of the required stay.” 

 

“Went from a GSW to a partial hepatectomy. However,” Ric glances between both his colleagues, “He asked that I not inform his parents.”

 

“You won’t be.” Henrik stands a bit straighter, noticing Bernie and Serena making their way through the very protected area. Taking full advantage of their ability to bypass hospital standards. He steps around the colleagues he was previously speaking to in order to near the bed. “Ms. Wolfe, Ms. Campbell.”

 

Bernie lifts her head, glancing toward her friend and coworker. Unsure if she should actually say anything, or if she even could. “Yes?” She manages to mumble.

 

“She seems stable for the moment. Luckily, Ms. MacMillan was able to arrive after all in order to take the lead on the procedure. The following forty-eight to seventy-two hours, as you know, will be rather critical. Once space becomes available on Darwin, she will be transferred there to be under intense observation.” His professionalism seeps into his words, “There is, however, something else you must be informed about.” Seeing both women’s expressions turn to worry toward him, “Your son, Cameron Dunn, was afflicted with a gunshot wound around the same time Charlotte was brought in, unfortunately. That is what tied Mr. Griffin up in theater, resulting in my taking over Charlotte’s case.”

 

Serena glances toward her girlfriend, helping her to carefully take the seat next to the bed when she feels the woman’s hand begin to tremble. There actually weren’t many chairs in this ward, but hospital staff had made arrangements. “What else?”

 

“His surgery was a bit more complicated.” Henrik glances back toward the man, knowing he’d walk up next to him.

 

Ric, luckily, had heard all that Henrik had started off with, “Nothing earth shattering, actually. GSW grazed the liver, so I removed the affected portion. Partial hepatectomy. He’s stable, surgery was a success.” He offers a quick smile, “Won’t be able to have a drink anytime soon and he’ll be in hospital for a good week.”

 

“He’s fine, though?” Bernie runs a hand through her hair, eyes glassy with unshed, worried tears. 

 

“He should be.” Henrik nods once, “Though his type of stay is usually placed to a step-down unit, we will also be placing him in Darwin to make it easier on you all to visit with them at the same time. Hopefully in the same room, if I’m able to pull some strings.”

 

“He’ll also be awake before Charlie is, just in case you care to see him.” Ric offers her a sympathetic, closed mouth smile.

 

“If there is absolutely anything I can possibly do for you both, please do not hesitate to ask.” Henrik keeps his hands at his sides, knowing how hard this must be. The coincidence of two children having surgery for completely different issues, both serious in their own right, is astounding. “I must take my leave...I’ve strings to pull.” He moves away from the pair, knowing Abigail Tate wouldn’t mind in the least.

 

“I can take you to him, if you’d like. Just several down. Couldn’t manage to get them next to one another, unfortunately.” The man holds his surgery scrub cap in his hand.

 

Bernie stands, glancing toward her daughter, then to her girlfriend, “Please, call Marcus again.”

 

“I’ll take care of it. You go and see Cam. I’m sure he’ll be coming out of anesthesia soon enough...and he’ll probably be pretty confused by all the drains. I’ll stay with Charlie.” Serena nods, watching her partner follow her best friend. She swallows as she takes the vacated seat in order to better watch the young woman with the breathing tube down her throat. This is different from last time. There wouldn’t be any quick wake ups or chatting after a few hours. She will probably be this way for a few days, that is, if she even comes around at all. “Charlie...please, now is not your time.” Serena finds herself whispering as she takes the young woman’s hand. She has regarded this young woman as her own for over a month now, and she wasn’t about to stop now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I'm surprised no one has said anything about the story cover (as seen in the notes of the first chapter).


	7. Chapter 7

Cameron Dunn begins to open his eyes slightly, the sunlight filling the room causes him to shy away a bit. He turns his head to the side, catching sight of his mother sitting there, having dozed off. Her arms folded and the puffiness of her eyes makes him know she had been crying, though she’d never admit to it. He smirks slightly, clearing his throat, “Mum.” His voice hoarse, a common side effect from being under. “Mother.” He tries again.

 

Bernie opens her eyes slowly, lifting her head. “Sorry...I...” She huffs slight amusement to herself, “I haven’t slept...and the sun is coming up.” She swallows, rubbing her hands on her face before moving her chair a bit closer. “How do you feel?”

 

“I told Ric not to say anything to you.” He isn’t upset though, relieved that the man didn’t listen to him.

 

“He didn’t. Henrik did.” She knows that would be their way of getting around it. “You’re all over the news.  _ Doctor takes a bullet for a patient. _ Few of the nurses around here stopped by to inform me.” 

 

“Yeah, well...” Cameron brushes it off a bit, not really feeling anything. He lifts his head a little to glance down to his body, “Why so many draining ports?” The small bulbs of fluid hang from his frame, “Draining ports mean hospital stays...which, you know, I don’t like.”

 

“Get over it.” Bernie nods, “They had to remove a portion of your liver, but you’ll be fine. No sauce for a bit.” She helps him raise the head of the bed just a bit when she notices him trying to scoot up. “And no work either. I’ll have Ric give them a call...I may even be able to find you someone to fill in for a bit.”

 

“Is Charlie out of surgery?” He notices her nod again before continuing, “How is she?”

 

She wills herself not to get upset again, “She’s touch and go right now. Um...lots of tubes...and a headwrap that she would complain about if she were awake, but other than that...” She licks her lips absently, “You and she get to share a room for a bit once it becomes available.”

 

“Haven’t shared a room with my sister since I was eight.” Cameron nods, “Do you remember? We went on holiday to Ibiza.”

 

“I do.” Bernie’s tone lightens, surprised, “Such a beautiful place.”

 

“We lost Charlie at the shops in town.”

 

“Oh, yes.” The thought causing her to smile a bit as she leans back in her chair, just casually rubbing her thumb over the back of her son’s hand as she holds onto it. “We found her with this old woman, sitting on top of the counter in a...music shop, I believe. The woman was feeding her sweets, small cakes and the like-”

 

“While casually playing a handmade ukulele. Char tried to tell us that she was staying there forever...Going as far as to attempt bargaining with us.” Marcus stands before the bed, watching the two in front of him. “Hello, son.”

 

“Dad.” Cameron can sense the relaxed air between his parents, “Did you see Charlie?”

 

“Stopped there first. Thought I may have heard Serena singing to her, but...I’m not entirely sure.”

 

“She does that sometimes. Not very good at holding a tune, I’m afraid. Insists she doesn’t sing though.” Bernie smirks slightly, her emotions on her sleeves and her exhaustion written all over her face. She takes a deep breath, “Both Charlie and now Cam, get a stay at the Hotel Holby.”

 

Marcus nods, “Free room service, no need to clean up your rubbish, and...bed baths.”

 

“I know you think that all sounds like a good thing,” Cameron frowns a little, “I’d rather be working. Helping people as much as I possibly can.” He pauses, tilting his head to face his mother again, “Speaking of which, I had a patient that I believe needs to get in touch with Veterans’ services. He seemed...lost. If they allow me, I’d...actually really like to go and see him.”

 

Bernie furrows her brow, “You do understand that you were shot, correct?”

 

“I remember Mr. Griffin...or Donna...someone, telling me that he went to ED. We were brought in at the same time.” He sees the look she’s giving him, “Mum, It’s important to me.”

 

“You just had a portion of your liver removed. Let’s give it a few days, shall we?” Marcus offers, almost protecting Bernie a bit from her son’s scowl, “If you remember his name, I can call down for his current condition, but let’s just...let you heal up a bit, yeah?”

 

Bernie stands, “I’ll leave the two of you to chat. I’m going to go sit with Charlie for a bit, if that’s okay with you.”

 

“I insist.” Cameron nods, “Tell her I’ll see her on Darwin.” A smirk plays at the corner of his mouth, knowing where they would be sending his sister, watching as his mother leans in to kiss his eyebrow, rubbing a hand through his hair after. They were a different family now compared to even a few months prior. More open. More loving. Not willing to take anything for granted anymore. He loves this new family he’s a part of.

 

Serena lifts her head, watching her partner appear next to the curtain, “You seem more relaxed. Cameron is doing well, I presume?” 

 

Bernie nods a little, “He’s excited to share a room with her again.” When her girlfriend seems confused, she waves a hand nonchalantly, “Trust me when I say that it doesn’t matter.” She sits on the bed, at the foot of it. Not the most comfortable, but anything to be close to her daughter.

 

The silver haired woman doesn’t let go of the young woman’s hand as she adjusts herself in the vinyl chair. The space falls quiet between them for a beat, “She just...looks so incredibly peaceful, doesn’t she? Not a single care, relaxed.” At this point, Serena glances to her watch, realizing she’s been awake for nearly twenty-four hours. “Angelic.”

 

She huffs a quick sign of amusement, smiling ever so slightly. “I know she only just got out of surgery a couple of hours ago, but...I can’t wait to take her home. Cameron too, however...I think he’s much more likely to stay with Marcus, if I know him in the slightest.”

 

Serena nods, “Whatever he wants.”

 

Bernie slowly glances toward her partner, “Thank you...for all of...” She shakes her head, “For handling everything while my head wasn't screwed on tight enough not long ago.”

 

“Of course.” She yawns a little, “However, once they’re both moved, I plan to have a quick bit of shut eye in the On-call room. If it’s all the same to you.”

 

“Understandable. You can go  _ now _ if you need to.” She stands, leaning down towards the chair to wrap her arms around her partner’s shoulders from behind her. “Or just sleep in bed with Charlie. She would love that.” Her tone teasing a bit, knowing there has been many a time where Serena just needed to hold onto Charlie. To clear thoughts of Elinor or to generally de-stress and she wasn’t available, she wasn’t really sure. However, it was always adorable to her.

 

Serena hums her amusement, leaning back against her partner a bit, “After they’re moved.” Another quick yawn, “I’d love it even more if you caught a few winks with me. Nothing too long. Marcus can watch over the children.”

 

“We’ll see.” Bernie absently nuzzles her face against her girlfriend’s neck. “I plan to request a cot to stay with them tonight. At least until Charlie’s critical phase is over, but it does...calm me a bit that Cameron will be there with his sister as well. She’ll never be alone for the next week at least.”

 

“I completely agree.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably one of my favorite chapters of anything I've ever written.

Cameron stares toward his sister on the other side of their shared hospital room on Darwin as he wheeled onto his side of the room. He didn’t expect her to look this way. The vision far more jarring than he ever anticipated. He can’t take his eyes off of her and the sight of his mother next to her nearly brings a tear to his own eye.  _ Keep it together, Cam. _ He can almost hear his sister’s voice in his head.

 

The lights generally lowered a bit within the room. Bernie offers him a soft smile as her son is wheeled into the room. “This is where Charlie was secluded when we had a stay last time.” She moves over to his bed, noticing his intense worried stare toward his sister. “Hey.” She rubs his bicep a little to finally garner his attention, “Everything okay?”

 

“No.” His voice hoarse as he shakes his head a little, “She uh...I wasn’t expecting it.”

 

“Worst part is, it never gets easier to see.” Serena lounges in a high backed chair situated next to Charlotte’s bed, watching the two on the opposite side of the room, “When she recovers, your head will continue to go back to...this. Seeing her this way.” Clearing her throat a bit, she offers him a sad smile, “Enough of all that, I hear we have a hero in our midst-”

 

“I’m no hero. It really wasn’t anything.” An amused expression covers Cameron’s face, “But...yeah. It hurt, I guess.”

 

“It’s something to us and I commend you for the amount of buzz you’ve created around here.” Bernie corrects him, “Your father went to fetch us all coffee. Well...Serena and I, and himself I reckon, some coffee.” She motions to the few intravenous bags attached to the pole feeding into his line, “Do you remember what these should be?”

 

“Oh, Berenice, leave the boy alone. He’s more than enough pain medication running through his head.” Serena playfully scowls, “Probably isn’t able to remember his own name, much less his medical school teachings at the moment.”

 

He loves seeing his mother happy. Is she terrified, yes, but she was always one to hide those sorts of things. Serena Campbell has only brought out the best in her and together they’re a genuine delight. “I am hungry...am I allowed anything to eat just yet?”

 

Bernie hums, lifting his file from the end of his bed, “Let’s see.”

 

“Now who is it that needs testing.” Serena raises an eyebrow, “Clear liquid diet for at least two days. I’m sure if we ask staff nicely, we could score you some flavored shaved ice or a cup of jelly.” She waves said eyebrow a bit. “Or some sort of broth...really, the two of you should know these things. Cameron is the only one with an excuse.”

 

Bernie shoots her a playful scowl, pushing the folder back into the basket at the front of the bed, “You should go to sleep.”

 

“Well, I’m on hour twenty-seven, so...where’s the fun in that?”

 

“Hour twenty-seven?” Cameron glances between them.

 

“When Serena finished her shift and arrived back at home, we rushed Charlie in. I um...I thought she had a virus or a lengthened postictal state, but...turns out it was a bit more than that.” Bernie answers quietly. She won’t ever stop blaming herself for this and with good reason. It was her fault that it wasn’t caught sooner. “So...um, Serena hasn’t had a chance to sleep. I’ve given her multiple opportunities, but-”

 

“I don’t want them.” Serena shakes her head a little, “Besides, Marcus is bringing coffee. I’d hate to have to reheat it.”

 

A soft rapt is heard at the door before a careful open. “I do hope I’m not intruding.” Abigail Tate glances to the people in the room, her friends, offering them a sad smile, “I do, however, wish it were under better circumstances.”

 

“Oh, join the party.” Serena waves her free hand in the air a bit while the other continues to hold onto Charlotte’s unresponsive hand. “Just...the largest of parties.”

 

“Ignore her, she hasn’t slept and she’s becoming feisty.” Bernie nods.

 

“She’s wasn’t  _ feisty _ prior to becoming tired?” Abigail playfully goads her old friend, giving her a smile afterwards.

 

“Very funny.” Serena shakes her head slowly.

 

The CEO allows the room to settle a bit before continuing, “Well, obviously Roxanna is going to be the one tending to Charlotte the most, but Cameron...there’s no one really here on Darwin that specializes in liver function that would be able to spend time here instead of another unit where there are many more patients with the same issues. So, you get me.” She slides her hands into her pockets, “You will also have Dr. Petrenko and Dr. McKendrick checking in from time to time as well if I end up elbows deep in a patient’s open chest cavity. Fletch has volunteered overseeing your nursing staff by himself...something about  _ not trusting anyone else _ , but who knows with him.” She smiles slightly as she hears the older women chuckle to themselves. “Like your mother and Serena, though I specialize in cardiothoracic surgery, I also enjoy a bit of general surgery if that is what’s needed. I am more than capable of tending to you so that your mothers can relax a bit.”

 

Cameron offers her a kind smile, amused with her use of the term  _ mothers _ and how she didn’t blink when she said it, “Thank you, Ms. Tate. I appreciate it, but...don’t ever tend to me over another patient because you believe me to be some kind of VIP.”

  
“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it. I hardly know you.” Abigail’s tone remains sarcastic, knowing he’d appreciate that with the way these women are, “Frieda should be in soon. Like the rest of us, she seems a bit melancholy about Charlotte’s return. It is probably difficult to tell the difference with her.”

 

“She and Charlotte knew one another before everything occured. Frieda has also tended to her for us from time to time when able to.” Serena explains, knowing the woman wouldn’t be happy about it. “You are correct, though, that with her usual entirely black ensemble, it is hard to tell.”

 

“What’s wrong with wearing all black?” Bernie furrows her eyebrows, interested.

 

“Well, darling, it’s like asking where the funeral is.”

 

“Maybe I just haven’t decided yet.”

 

Cameron finds himself chuckling a little before groaning and bringing a hand to his incredibly tender stitches, “Is Dad grinding the coffee beans himself? The two of you are insufferable.” He feels his mother push the remote to the patient-controlled analgesic into the palm of his hand, causing him to quickly push the button.

 

Abigail turns to face the door only to see the man approaching, “Speak of the devil.” She opens it, offering a kind smile, “Mr. Dunn.” She nods to her subordinate, glancing around the room once more, “Cameron, Fletch should be in shortly to take obs. I’ll tell him bring in our clear foods menu for you. Other than that, I’ll be back in a bit.” 

 

Marcus offers Serena her coffee, watching his boss leave the room, “Did I miss anything?”

 

“Thank you.” Serena smirks up toward him, taking the cup of warm liquid into her free hand, “Not particularly.”

 

Bernie discretely rolls her eyes, taking her cup of coffee from the man as well, “Abigail will be tending to Cam during his stay and Roxanna is tending to Charlie.” She immediately goes to take a sip, scrunching her face slightly after, “Black, switch.” She moves to her girlfriend, knowing she’s probably too tired to even know the difference.

 

“I could taste the diabetes in that one, Berenice.” The silver haired woman gives her girlfriend the cup in her free hand, letting her give the proper one and taking a sip right away, “Much better.”

 

“It’s been the Wolfe-Campbell comedy hour in here, Dad. Save me.” Cameron loves this though. All of this. All of his parents actually getting along and being humorous to one another. However, he still finds himself staring at his sister when all eyes aren’t on him. She had to be okay.


	9. Chapter 9

“You have your mobile, did you want me to go and purchase you a book or something?” Marcus offers, “I know you’ve only been in a day, but they don’t have televisions in these rooms, so I know how difficult it can be to occupy yourself.” He leans back in the chair next to his son’s bed. His ex-wife’s partner having gone to the On-Call room to get some resemblance of sleep and Bernie going to the entrance to retrieve their take-away order. “Mum bought you some warmed chicken broth...she should be back up here in a few minutes. That will occupy you for a bit.”

 

“No, it’s...” Cameron doesn’t usually find himself being emotional and when he does, he attempts to keep that portion hidden away from others. “I look over there and...I’m just...” He swallows, “I’m waiting for the heart monitor to flatline. I don’t want it to, obviously, not any one of us do. What if Charlie’s luck has run its course?”

 

“You can’t think about those things.” He shakes his head, “Never think those things, Cam.” The older man bites his lip a bit as he glances toward his daughter, “And try not to be so pessimistic around your mother. She’s...not taking this well. Thinks Char is going to be able to go home...like everything will be fine.”

 

“If she recovers, why couldn’t she?”

 

“Because this is what happens when she isn’t on monitors or in a clinical setting twenty-four seven. Your mother and Serena did their very best...and they had Charlotte’s best interests in mind, but...this is a different road. They can’t possibly handle this road.” Marcus explains patiently, calmly, “When she wakes, she may just be in a vegetative state...or unable to speak. I suppose I’m more of a realist than your mother.”

 

“Mum is a realist too, that’s why she isn’t taking it well.” Cam mumbles, “Serena either. This is similar to how Elinor died. I can’t imagine what she’s going through...at all. Her and Char have gotten to be so close, Dad. I mean, probably was going to happen anyway since they’re always around one another, but...so close.” He smirks to himself, “Char was going to have  _ Mum’s Girl  _ tattooed...just to add to the collection, I guess, but she wasn’t decided on what she wanted it with. Elinor has one...with a light bulb. Not sure how they relate, but...it makes sense to her.”

 

“Maybe Elinor means light?” The older man shrugs, “You didn’t answer though, is there something you’d like for me to pick up for you? Your mother is spending the night, per the usual, I think she plans to until Charlotte is past her seventy-two hour critical mark. Knowing Bern, she’ll probably go on longer than that though.”

 

“Probably.” He nods, “Um...I can order it via my mobile. I have my mobile, so if I have them send things to your place, will you just bring them to me?”

 

“Of course, son.”

 

“Couple of books that I had my eye on. Possibly a radio of some sort. I haven’t decided.”

 

“Try not to go overboard. Actually, we can just do it together. That way I can make sure you aren’t just ordering things because you’re blitzed.” Marcus smirks, “I know you don’t think so, but I can see it in your eyes, young one.” He retrieves his own mobile from his pocket.

 

Cameron smiles a little toward his father, taking the mobile from his hands, “Did you get a new one?”

 

“Couple months ago. Was having issues with the old one and needed to make sure I could receive calls about your sister if your mother or Serena needed me.”

 

Bernie opens the door to the room, sighing with a plastic bag in her hand filled with food. “Bloody hell. With as long as that had taken, I could have made the food myself.” She couldn’t have, but even the term amuses her a little. “Marcus, your lo mein. Cameron, mystery broth...I’m pretty sure it’s pork or chicken.”

 

“Sounds vaguely appetizing.” Cameron raises an eyebrow, groaning when he reaches for the moderately sized container. Not too much, just enough. His mother ignoring his hand and placing it on the tray table near him. He leans his head back, reaching down to push the button on his pain medication pump and hitting it a few times.

 

“Be more careful, Cam, please.” She makes eye contact with him. “I told Fletch I’d document your intake for this one. He will handle output since it’s the bag. So...when you’re finished, let me know.”

 

“I have a wee bag?” The young man furrows his brow, lifting his bed linens to look underneath at himself, “Well, I say...”

 

“Like I said, blitzed.” Marcus smirks, nodding to his ex-wife, “Thanks, Bern.”

 

“You continue a supply of coffee and I can do this.” The container of Serena’s food is placed to the side and she checks her wristwatch. “She should be up shortly.” She glances toward her son again, “Do you want a straw or...spoon or something?”

 

Cameron makes eye contact with his mother, pitifully pouting, “I want real food.”

 

“I know, love. When you’re allowed, we’ll get whatever you wish.” Bernie smiles a little, watching as her former husband helps their son become more situated. 

 

The young man tilts his head to the side, continually watching his sister. He begins to grin when her eyes open ever so slightly, “Char...” He’s visibly becoming more and more elated. “Mum, she just opened her eyes.”

 

The blonde turns quickly, only to see the young woman looking completely the same. She bites her lip a little, reminding herself that her son was under the influence of some medication to relax and keep him painless. She knows it means he may also hallucinate a bit because of it. “Okay.”

 

Cam shakes his head a little, “I did. Just a little. She’s...” He swallows, knowing exactly why she would answer him so passively. He stops his train of thought, just falling silent. The young man opens the container of broth, using both of his hands to drink from it. He knows what he saw and he knows that his mother’s girlfriend would believe him.


	10. Chapter 10

Serena enters the room after her long shift, smiling to her partner as she kisses the woman tenderly. “Roxanna wanted to meet with you lot about treatment options.” She glances toward Marcus, “I’ll stay here...and eat. I’m rather peckish. The two of you go ahead...fill me in after the fact.”

 

Marcus stands, “Are you sure, Serena? I’d want you included as well.” He means it too. Marcus has always respected the woman, since before she and his ex-wife were an item, “I know Char would agree.”

 

She pauses, touched by his offer, nodding a little after. She feels Bernie take her hand as they step away to the office space down a very short hall to the specialist. “Roxanna, go ahead.”

 

Roxanna MacMillan glances between the three people in front of her, motioning them to sit. Impressed when Marcus lets Bernie and Serena have the seats, “tomorrow morning, I’d like to conduct some tests on brain activity.” She nods, “I’d like for you all to...prepare yourselves for results that may not be...what we wish for them to be.”

 

Bernie grips her girlfriend’s hand tighter, her eyes sprinkling with tears, but she keeps herself upright. Putting on a facade of strength even though she feels herself crumbling internally. “What if we wait a couple more days? She only just had surgery the day before last and...I don’t want to rush things.”

 

“It wouldn’t be rushing if it’s the inevitable, Bern.” Marcus mumbles a little, shaking his head. This is not what he wanted to hear. Not in the least. He wants his daughter to thrive, but wouldn’t dare keep her suffering because he’s too selfish to let her die.

 

Serena glances toward an empty spot on the woman’s desk, it was all happening again. All of it. A tremble begins to spread about her body, knowing Bernie is able to feel it. “Just...just wait, Roxy. Please.”

 

Roxanna had a feeling this is how they would react. No parent wants to experience losing a child and Serena would be feeling it twice over if this were the case. “I understand, but this does not imply removing her from the ventilator. We just need to see what we’re working with.” She swallows, “You’re all surgeons. You all know there may possibly be complications. I simply want you all to prepare yourselves for them. So far, I haven’t noticed much of a real change to her obvs. Which is, actually, a good thing. No fever, means no infection.”

 

Bernie continues to internalize her emotions, “Cameron needs to know.”

 

“I’ll take care of it.” Marcus nods, arms folded as he paces a little.

 

“I am, however, incredibly optimistic  _ because _ of the lack of a fever. Means we’ve all done our jobs quite well...Fletch has done his job quite well.” Roxanna offers a reassuring half smile, “I can hold it off for a couple more days, but I just want to have a better idea of what we’re working with as a whole. For instance, do we try waking her? Do we let her alone for the brain to heal a bit more? Do we begin passive physio in order to reduce atrophy?”

 

Frieda Petrenko lifts her head, noticing the parents through the window of Ms. MacMillan’s office until she hears the alarms going off from the room containing the patient they were no doubt consulting over. She jogs toward it, noticing Fletch see it as well. “This is not what I want today.” She mumbles to herself as she pushes open the door.

 

Cameron Dunn is attempting to get out of his bed, groaning loudly from pain as he does so. He lifts his head, “I told them before, she keeps opening her eyes.” He yelps again, falling back onto the bed.

 

“Alright, mate, let’s just calm down. You’re no good to her like this.” Fletch places a hand on the younger man’s shoulder, “Besides, you’ve an indwelling catheter and multiple drain ports, so moving too much isn’t doing you any favors.”

 

The raven haired doctor nears her friend’s bed, knowing this is part of the job, but not actually wanting to see her friend in this way. “Charlie, it is me. I’m just going to do your obs while I’m in here.”

 

“Please, please, Char. Just do it again.” Cam calls toward his sister, tears forming in his eyes.

 

Fletch sighs a little, seeing the anguish of the young man he worked with at one time. “Cam, I need you to get back up into bed. While Dr. Petrenko is tending to Charlie, I’ll do your obs as well.” He quickly makes eye contact with Frieda across the room, “I’m going to get you something to help you relax a bit.”

 

Frieda nods toward the nurse, an unspoken word between them to get the young patient doctor a tranquilizer. That would probably be the only way to calm him enough for her liking. She focuses back onto Charlotte, picking her head up a little when she sees the violet haired young woman staring at her with open eyes. “Duzhe dobre.” She whispers to herself before giving a better understood, “Hello.”

 

“Yes.” Cameron grins broadly, watching the interaction. 

 

“You gave everyone a big scare, but I’m glad you’re okay.” Her eyes glisten ever so slightly with sheer relief, until she realizes the young woman’s eyes aren’t moving. Everything is fine though, this isn’t too terrible, just a side effect. Focus seizure. Not like the young woman had not had one in the past. This just feels bitter sweet.

 

Fletch straightens up a bit, nodding to Cam, “Sorry we ever doubted you, mate.”

 

“It’s alright.” Cam pushes a hand through his hair. “Charlie, I’m here. Dad, Mum, and Serena are talking with Ms. MacMillan. They didn’t leave. They wouldn’t.”

 

“Alright, I still need you to calm down a bit. We don’t want you popping a stitch.” The nurse shakes his head, slowly reattaching the things his young patient had removed or accidentally dislodged. “Right now, though it may seem silly to ya, I’m more concerned with all this you have going on. Charlie is...situated. You’re not, and you’re no good to her like that.”

 

His former coworker makes sense, causing him to nod a little. “I...I didn’t expect her to wake up.”

 

“None of us did.” Fletch answers honestly, taking notes of the young man’s levels, “I’ll do your output in a second. Stay in bed for me, though.”

 

Frieda nears the young man’s bed, “Frontal seizure, but that doesn’t mean she’s not opening them regularly anyway. They were focused on me for a few seconds. I’ll let Ms. MacMillan know. It’s...actually a good thing. Means she’s still aware.” She pauses, “Also means you aren’t as crazy as everyone thinks.” She turns, seeing the young woman blink, “See? Already finished with it.”

 

Cameron attempts to look past them, “Charlie, we’re in hospital.” His tone less frantic, growing more calm, “Both of us patients.” A quick spike in her pulse, but he sees it on her monitor, “Yeah, I’m fine. Joined a mafioso. You should see the other guy.” A couple more quick spikes, “She can hear me. You see that?”

 

The raven haired doctor turns, watching what he was referring to, “Of course she can. We did surgery on her brain, not on her ears.” Another spike, “I’m just imagining some sarcastic thing coming from her mouth.” She finds herself laughing a bit when the young woman slowly and carefully flips her the bird while her hand rests against the mattress.


	11. Chapter 11

“I’ve got children of me own. I wouldn't make something like this up. I remember when a few of mine were in a similar predicament.” Fletch pauses, shaking his head a little, “Not brain surgery or anything like her, but it was bad enough.” He folds his arms, “She gave Frieda the one finger salute and was responding to things Cameron was tellin’ her by making her pulse spike.”

 

Serena knows he wouldn’t lie to her, not after everything she’s done for his family as a whole. “All the while we were in the meeting with Roxanna.” Her hands remain nervously at her sides, “Why doesn’t she want to wake with us?”

 

“Less pressure, maybe?” He shrugs, tilting his head, “Had to give Cameron a sedative because he kept tryin’ to get out of bed. Don’t think he understands just how much that catheter is going to hurt if he pulls it out.” He moves closer to her, gently placing a hand in the middle of her back, “I swear it, Serena. I think she’ll be alright.”

 

She nods a little, a soft smile beginning to form at the corner of her lip. “It gives me hope. Thank you, Fletch.”

 

“Don’t mention it. Just...don’t hold yourself back from talkin’ to her. She can hear you loud and clear...might even give  _ you _ the one finger salute if you’re lucky.” He backs away a little, nearing the door, “Want me to get you some tea? May help you relax a bit.”

 

“Well, I only really relax if Bernie is at home, I only really sleep when she’s next to me. Her staying here, though I would do the same if...” Serena trails off just for a second before bringing herself back to the conversation, “anyway, it means I’m unable to sleep at night.”

 

“Oh.” Fletch answers simply, “I can get somebody to get you something, if you’d like. I’m sure Frieda or Nicky wouldn’t mind writing you something to help you sleep.”

 

“No, I’m...free tomorrow. So,” She shrugs a little, “I can try a bit harder with a glass of three of shiraz.”

 

“I like my idea a bit better.”

 

Serena knows he’s right. She takes a deep breath before nodding, “Only if they wouldn’t mind. I don’t want to pressure them.”

 

Fletch notices Charlie’s hand moving a little again, “Looks like someone wants a word.” He nods his head toward Charlotte’s bed before taking his leave from the room. He remembers very clearly how broken she was after Elinor died. How she had taken his daughter under her wing to, possibly, ease some of that pain. Having to put her through it again with Charlie Wolfe was awful, but he knew their optimism was going to go a long way in this circumstance.

 

The silver haired woman rounds the bed to the other side, noticing the young woman’s hand moving a bit, Charlie’s eyes groggily attempting to watch her. She feels her eyes brim with tears, “Hello, sweetheart.” Her voice just above a whisper, she notices the hand is patting the spot next to the young woman. “You want me to sit with you?” 

 

It seems to be taking a great deal out of the young woman. Charlie tries again, having just heard the conversation between the woman and Fletch, trying to keep herself awake. She must spell with her finger, slowly, and weakly against the bedsheets.  _ Lie down. _ She breathes a little heavier, telling herself how pathetic she is within the depths of her head.

 

“Lie down?” Serena keeps her voice calm, light. “Bed isn’t big enough for the two of us, I’m afraid. Your mother, sure, but I’m just-” She watches as the young woman does it again. She doesn’t know what to do, just watching her.

 

_ Mum’s girl. Lie down. _ Another pat of the hand against the sheets of the mattress. All she wanted, though it seems overwhelming at times, is to be sandwiched between the two women as they all watch some Agatha Christie mystery that she’s actually watched in its entirety previously, but pretends she hasn’t just to make them believe she’s more clever than she actually is.

 

The name. Her name. The name this young woman uses to refer to her. Their term of endearment. It causes her to smile a bit more. She takes a seat on the mattress, taking hold of her near step-daughter’s hand, “I’m too big for us both.”

 

Charlie moves her hand to spell again.  _ Try. _

 

Serena couldn’t possibly deny her that. She carefully, far more carefully than she probably needs to be, adjusts the young woman so they can both fit. The bed seems larger than it probably is. However, she knew Abigail would ensure she had the best of everything. She tries to keep herself from crying more. Glad the young woman would be okay, probably.

 

Bernie nears the room after popping off to the roof for a smoke. She notices her partner in bed with her daughter, something they were just very used to. Bernie stands there for a few minutes, just watching them together.

 

“I think Serena needed that. You too, but...it was all that stuff with Elinor again for her.” Fletch says from behind the blonde, shaking his head a little, “Let her know I managed to get something going for her. They’ll be out here when she decides to go home for the night.”

 

“ _ If _ she does.” She doesn’t know what he could have obtained for her partner, but has a good idea. Bernie turns the doorknob, quietly pushing herself into the room. She stands a bit straighter when she sees her daughter’s eyes open and her partner already fast asleep next to her. “You’ve got your  _ Mum’s Girl _ wrapped around your little finger, Charlotte Wolfe.” She hums a soft chortle when the girl gives a weak sign of approval.


	12. Chapter 12

“Good morning, Mr. Dunn.” 

 

Marcus turns his head, “Ah, Dr. McKendrick,” He offers her a friendly smile, watching when the young F1 begins to follow in line with him, “Morning obvs?”

 

“Ms. MacMillan and physio are in there now. I figure we could kill two birds with one stone and tend to Cam.” Nicky nods, “Last night was quite eventful.”

 

“How so?” He raises an eyebrow.

 

“Well, with Charlotte opening her eyes and responding to vocal stimuli, things seem to be looking up for her.” She nods, “We’re all quite excited with developments around here. Actually, Ms. Wolfe and Ms. Campbell have stepped out for coffee while Ms. MacMillan assesses Charlotte’s condition.

 

“Oh” Marcus pauses, “I’ll uh...” He glances down to his own cup of coffee in his hand that he had made at home that morning. “I didn’t realize the women weren’t in there.”

 

“Well, I think it was more that they wanted her to focus on the task at hand instead of them.”

 

“Good point.” He motions to the chair beside the door, “I’ll take their lead then.” Offering another cordial smile to the young doctor, Marcus takes a seat in the chair, watching through the window at his daughter’s treatment.

 

“Very good, Charlie.” Roxanna shines her pocket torch around, instructing her young patient to follow the light with her eyes. “How about we try taking the tube out?” She notices a spike in her pulse, “I don’t know how you’re able to do that, but you’re impressing me at every turn.” She sees the young woman’s mouth upturn, amused. Roxanna unsecures the tubes, turning off the machine. “On the count of three, exhale. One, two, three.” She gently pulls on the tube, the young woman coughing after.

 

Hank Guinness, physiotherapist extraordinaire and head of the department, gently massages the young woman’s arm. “You mean to tell me that she only just had surgery a few days ago?”

 

“Charlie is known for her regenerative abilities.” The bleach blonde gives the young woman a wink, addressing her after, “Don’t try speaking just yet.”

 

“Is she okay?” Cameron asks the young doctor tending to him.

 

Nicky turns her head glancing to the other side of the room, “Ms. MacMillan knows what she’s doing.” She nods, “I don’t think you have anything to worry about.” She returns her attention to her patient, pushing the thermometer to his ear, “One-zero-two point two. Bit high.” She curls her lip a little, “I’m going to order some bloods. How are you feeling, Cam?”

 

“I’m fine.”

 

“Cameron, I need you to be honest with him.” Her voice a bit more forceful, gaining his attention finally. When she sees his eyes, she knows she isn’t going to get anywhere with it. “I’m going to take a look at your incision.” Gently moving his hospital gown, the gently assesses the area, it’s fine. Nicky adjusts his gown and blanket back over him.

 

“I told you I’m fine. Please-” Cameron tries again.

 

“I’m sure you believe that.” She removes the stethoscope from around her neck, placing the eartips to her ears, pressing the diaphragm to his chest, “I need to have a listen to your back, if you could go ahead and sit forward for me?”

 

“I’m a doctor.” He swallows, not worried about himself, just wanting their attention to be better spent on his sister. “What are you thinking?” Cam leans forward.

 

Nicky places the doppler to his back, attempting to listen to his breathing sounds, “I’m not sure just yet. Quiet please.”

 

Charlie lets her surgeon gently sit her up a bit more as she places a nasal cannula to her face. She sees her brother across from her. Offering him a grin. She didn’t understand why he was there, but he appears pale. Various ports hang from his frame as well as a urine collection bag. Her voice thick, cracked from days with a tube down her throat, at a slow slur, “You look like shit.”

 

Cameron begins to chuckle to himself only to be hushed by the doctor assessing him. He mouths back to his sister,  _ Ditto. _

 

“Very good.” Nicky tilts her head to the side, flipping the stethoscope back around her neck. “Okay, I’m going to send you for a CT scan with contrast. I want to rule out a few things. See why you have this fever and rule out a few things.”

 

He glances back to her, “Is that necessary?”

 

“It is. I’d rather you not die over something trivial if I can help it.” She moves to the foot of his bed, noting his chart, knowing she needs to do the same in the computer system. Nicky glances toward Charlotte, offering her a grin as she passes, “Good morning.”

 

Roxanna raises an eyebrow, watching her patient, “I want to attach some dopplers to your scalp so that we can see what kind of function we’re looking at. I can see you’re awake and speaking, which is very good. We’re just going to take it one day at a time.” She moves to the end of the bed, using a key from her pocket, running it along the sole of the young patient’s foot, not receiving any reaction.

 

Hank nods to his coworker, having seen the reaction, or lack thereof, gently massaging his patient’s leg. Mostly just to ensure blood flow to the various extremities. Glancing back up to her face, he offers her a smirk, “So, sharing a room with your brother?”

 

“Not by choice.” Charlie smirks, “He’s an idiot.”

 

“You can say that again.” Cameron hears his sister, calling out his reply.

 

Roxanna smirks at the interaction between siblings, lifting her file from the end of the bed to notate what she needs to, “Okay, Charlie. I’m going to be back a bit later to get you wired up. I want to follow what you’re doing for a few hour before letting you sleep...still wired. I want to track brain pattern while you sleep.”

 

Charlotte lazily glances toward her surgeon, “I won’t remember any of that.” She slurs, taking her time as she speaks, lifting her hand to motion toward the door. “My Dad is just outside. Can you...just tell him?”

 

She raises an eyebrow, nodding. Surprised her patient noticed her father in the first place, “Of course.” She replaces the folder, offering a quick smile, “I’ll be in my office. Mr. Phillips will be seeing you for another massage tomorrow. We’ll leave you to it.” Roxanna motions with a tilt of her head toward the door for the therapist to follow along, leaving the door open.

 

Marcus stands, entering the room, “Well, well, well. Look at you. Bright eyed.” He grins toward his daughter, then glances toward his son. “Dr. Mackendrick says you’re heading for a CT with contrast.”

 

“No Doctor-Patient confidentiality in this place.” Cameron leans back, raising his eyebrows, leaning back in bed. “Simply an overreaction by an eager F1.”

 

“You’re smarter than that.” He shakes his head, “Look at your drains, your collection bag.” Marcus sighs, “I know you’re incredibly interested in and worried for your sister, but ignoring your own ailment isn’t going to do you any favors.” He sighs, turning when he notices his ex-wife and her partner nearing the room through the open door. “Now, just...be a patient instead of a hardass doctor.”

 

“Says the other hardass-”

 

“Cam.” Charlotte interrupts him, not saying anything else. Not needing to. Just meeting his eyes. 

 

Cameron sighs, folding his arms over his chest, “Yeah.”


	13. Chapter 13

“Charlie, if you’re tired, sleep. You don’t need to stay up on our account.” Bernie shakes her head, “Your father was needed on Keller, but promised his return at dinnertime. Cam is still getting his CT scan.” She reaches a hand up, gently pushing some hair from the young woman’s head.

 

“The worst patients are doctors. I’ve heard stories of your mother.” Serena smirks, leaning back in the chair beside the bed.

 

“She lies.” The blonde shakes her head.

 

Charlie smirks a little toward the women, her body weak, her voice slurred, “I want to go home.”

 

“And we want to take you, but you aren’t currently ready for that.” Serena folds her arms, “Aren’t prepared for solid foods just yet.” Her eyes drift to the feeding tube snaking from the young woman’s nose, “and your physio comes to give you massages daily. Maybe I can con him into giving me one or two. He’s fit.”

 

Bernie rolls her eyes, amused by her girlfriend, she focuses on her daughter in front of her, “We want to make certain you’re at your best before we try going home.” She licks her lips, still blaming herself for everything that has transpired, “Because you need to be at your best to solve those cases when we watch Agatha Christie mysteries.”

 

“Still isn’t home.” Carlie replies, her eyelids heavy as she leans her head back.

 

“I wish you were this easy to put down for a nap when you were a toddler.” The blonde shakes her head, attempting to keep the room light. She leans down, softly pressing a kiss to her daughter’s eyebrow. Bernie glances over to the empty space that once contained her son’s hospital bed, “What do you think is keeping them?”

 

“Oh, you know how imaging is.” Serena answers simply, “They never seem to know how to make a decent schedule or be properly staffed.”

 

“You’re right.”

 

“I know.” Serena waves her eyebrows with a slight playfulness. “One of the times I was CEO, I had to go down and do their schedules myself. Oh, they were so cross. However, I’m not about to have one technician on a Friday night into Saturday morning when everyone is getting pissed, coming in here from falls and auto collisions. Simply doesn’t make sense and they do it all the time. They have plenty of people as well, that’s the worst part.”

 

Bernie is happy to have the added distraction, “Do you miss being CEO?”

 

“I miss the paycheck from being CEO, but that’s about it.” She smirks, “and it wasn’t even that much of an increase either...certainly not worth the added stress at the time. When I helped Henrik, that was fine. That was easy...to a degree.”

 

“I’m sorry I missed it.” The corner of her mouth turns up, “sleeping with the boss is fun sometimes.”

 

Serena makes an approving sound, “Oh?”

 

“Well, I guess. You see, I was oftentimes the boss.” Bernie waves her eyebrows, “I can only expect that I was spectacular.” She pauses, “At least I’ve been told. Not necessarily because I was the boss.”

 

“Spare me.” Charlie mumbles from her place in the bed.

 

Fletch knocks gently on the door to the room, mauve colored basin filled with the supplies he’ll need. “Afternoon.” He offers a calm smile, though it’s obvious that he’s hiding something. “Time for obvs and to change your beautiful headwrap.” He lifts his head up to the two surgeons, “If you lot wanted to get a coffee, now would be a great time.”

 

Serena knows when he’s hiding something. She’s seen it plenty of times. She leans back in the chair, one leg comfortably folded over the other at the knee, “Fletch, any word on what’s keeping Cameron?”

 

“Uh, well...yes, and no.” He distracts himself with the task at hand, deciding to do her vital signs first. “Alright, Charlie, love, right under the tongue.” He uses the oral thermometer this time around, needing to hold the device for her, using his other hand to check her pulse, watching her respirations instead since the machine is doing it her pulse for him.

 

“Adrian.” The silver haired woman doesn’t need to scowl, or give him any dirty look. They’re rather close. Closer than they’ve let on at work. He and his children were like family to her, Evie even requesting to live with her on numerous occasions. Luckily, she was able to pacify the girl with occasional weekend stays to get away from the hectic home life.

 

Fletch can’t ever deny this woman. He finds himself sighing, “I’m sorry, Serena. I was asked not to say anything by the patient.”

 

Bernie offers, “Hypothetically, let’s say this patient told you that you could tell us where he is...also because he may, hypothetically, be my son.” She raises her eyebrows, displaying a hopeful look.

 

He sighs, letting go of his patient’s wrist, removing the thermometer from her mouth as well. “I really, hypothetically or otherwise, cannot tell you.”

 

“What about me?” Charlotte tries to watch him. “I...I’m...” She doesn’t know where she was going with her thought process.

 

Fletch watches her and her difficulty speaking or forming cohesive thoughts. A vast difference from the young woman he had seen not terribly long ago. He swallows, “Hypothetically, he may have popped a few stitches when you were waking up yesterday. Had to get ‘em fixed, but he’ll be fine.”

 

Bernie sighs, “Who is taking care of it?”

 

“Dr. Petrenko and Ms. Tate. They were internal, so he’s in theater.” He pauses, “Hypothetically.” 

 

Charlie offers a slight smile, “Thanks.”


	14. Chapter 14

“Cameron, why do you continue to tell staff not to say anything to us? You know, for a fact, that we are going to find out and we are going to seek you out to show our support.” Bernie paces in the front of her son’s hospital bed, her arms folded, “I have eyes and ears all over this place. I’m always going to know where you are.”

 

Cam watches his mother walk back and forth, it’s nearly hypnotizing. “That’s kind of creepy.” He yawns, “You don’t need care, Mum. You need to focus on Charlie.”

 

“Not true. I can focus on you both.” She is glad the young woman isn’t privy to this conversation, that they’re having this talk in Recovery before even returning to the room the two have been sharing. “That’s what mothers do, Cameron, we worry about all of our children at the same time.”

 

“Thought you may have forgotten how.”

 

Bernie turns, making eye contact with the young man, “Don’t start that, please. We’ve come a long way.” She pauses, “At least I feel like we have.”

 

He realizes he’s said something stupid. Cameron has noticed his mother’s change. Though she’s been on that path since returning to Holby City from Nairobi, what seems forever ago, he thinks. “You’re right. I apologize.”

 

She nods a little, lifting his chart from the end of his bed, “You need to be more careful, Cam.” Her voice soft, caring.

 

“I know.” He licks his lips, attempting to find the words. “I just...don’t like having idle hands. Even if it’s because of my own health.”

 

Bernie smirks ever so slightly, “You get it honestly.”

 

“Don’t I know it.” Cam tries to huff a quick chuckle, but winces in pain, groaning a little.

 

“Sorry.” She shows a regretful look on her face as she moves to the side of the bed, softly pushing hair from her son’s eyes. “Do you understand, though, that your health is just as important to me as your sister’s...that you are just as important to me as your sister?”

 

“Didn’t we have this conversation when I was three-and-a-half and you told me that you were pregnant?” He raises an eyebrow.

 

Bernie smirks a little, “I believe so...”

 

“Just a few years ago, wasn’t it?” Cam’s tone playful though it is obvious he is not feeling his best.

 

“Feels like it.” She absently takes a deep breath, amused by the thought. “I even remember your response, _I was wondering why your tummy was growing_. You had thought I was sick.” She chuckles a little to herself. “So concerned...then you told people I _brought_ _a baby back from the Army_. Your grandmother loved that one.”

 

“Of course, Grandmother Dunn didn’t care for you much.” He pauses, “I remember her telling Dad when we were young and you were on assignment that he should find someone who was going to be a true wife to him.” Cam smirks a little, “I argued that you were busy being a hero and that was more important than being a wife.” He glances away from his mother, just to take stock of the room, “I was about eight...and, to my credit, she didn’t like Char or I either.”

 

“Essentially anyone that wasn’t her sweet Marcus.” Bernie nods slowly, “I had them tell your father know you were down here, but he was in the middle of a surgery, so Essie said she would tell him after they were finished...for the patient’s safety.”

 

“I imagine I’ll be upstairs by then.”

 

“Probably.” She watches him, taking in the sight of his drains, “You need to think about getting better now. Not hiding things from your parents. I know you want to get back to the clinic, or even go on to greater things. Traveling...where are you thinking of heading next?”

 

Cam shakes his head a little, “No, I’m...I think I’ll probably stay here for a while.” Though it was a bit of time ago, he still blames himself for what happened to his sister when he was supposed to be watching over her a month or so ago. “Help you and Serena out where I can, when I can. Maybe even try to be an uncle-figure to Jason’s daughter.”

 

Bernie shows an approving facial expression, “He does appreciate when you make the effort.” She takes hold of her son’s hand, “And I’m sure the baby does as well.” He never really does anything for himself, never has really. Always for other people. She’s noticed that about the young man through the years. His own needs and desires were always an afterthought. 

 

“Teach her the important things like...beatboxing.” Cam smirks when he hears his mother begin her distinctive belly laugh. It’s so loud, he’s surprised she isn’t being asked to leave the unit, “Ordering take-away, performing an ice pick lobotomy, you know, important things that kids need to know.”

 

She begins to stifle herself, “Whatever am I going to do with you, Cameron?” Bernie leans down, pressing a soft kiss against her son’s eyebrow. Proud of him through and through. 


	15. Chapter 15

“Perceived Generalized Asthenia, probably a result of her TBI.” Hank Phillips, physiotherapist extraordinaire, says to his assistant who is standing on the other side of the bed, just taking notes. “Patient is in good, physical condition. Showing that her home care, previous to her readmittance, has been more than sufficient.”

 

“Who would have thought that two surgeons could tend to another human being?” Serena replies under her breath, reading through patient notes.

 

“Mum’s Girl.” Charlie warns in her usual slow draw.

 

“It’s okay. She’s just looking out for you.” Hank nods, “Besides, Ms. Campbell and I go way back?” Seeing his patient’s expression change to one of curiosity, he continues, “Ancient history, better left to be forgotten, trust me.”

 

“We went to dinner years ago and he skipped out on baying the bill.” Serena explains, “So yes, ancient history.” She raises an eyebrow, “Besides, had he not been a complete pillock, I wouldn’t have given your mother a glance...well, I would have, but I wouldn’t have acted on it.”

 

“You made a good choice, she is rather beautiful.”

 

“And incredibly intelligent and witty, but you’ve never really cared about that either.” The silver haired woman continues, very distinctively not liking this man. She draws in a deep breath, releasing it slowly before continuing, “However, you are one of the most brilliant physiotherapists this hospital has to offer and it is no surprise that you run the department.”

 

“And here we are.” Hank nods a little, “Besides, Serena, I’ve...quelled my behavior since then. I didn’t want my son being a tool like I had a habit of being.”

 

“You have a son?”

 

“Had...he...didn’t live very long past birth.” The slightly younger therapist shakes his head, “Unimportant to the task at hand though.”

 

Serena sits up a bit, immediately feeling bad that she had carried on. She doesn’t apologize however, she hated when people apologized to her about a young woman they didn’t even know. “Agreed.” She knows all of the hospital heard about the loss of her own daughter, but is surprised she hadn’t heard about Hank Phillips’ son. Maybe he wanted it that way.

 

“Charlotte-” He starts.

 

“Charlie.” The young patient corrects him.

 

“Okay, Charlie.” Hank nods, “Do me a favor and wiggle your toes.” He smirks when she does as requested, “Very good. Okay, I’m going to try to push your feet down, but I need you to hold them up. Ready?” Hank does as he said he would to the tops of her feet, glad when he feels her at least trying to do as he requested. “Fantastic. Now the opposite, push me away so that your foot is more flat or pointed like a ballerina.” He pauses as the patient does as is requested, “Great job, Charlie.” He lifts his head toward his assistant, “Fluid dorsiflexion and a more rigid plantarflexion. So we’ll need to work a bit on those muscles, which isn’t a big deal really-”

 

“What does that mean?” Charlie watches him cautiously.

 

“It means your foot likes to stay flat.” He uses his hand to explain her foot positions with her, “Everyone’s foot is like that. However, when you try to walk, you may feel yourself falling forward because the muscles in your ankle area aren’t strong enough to want to hold you upright. They want you to just...tip over.” Hank nods, “And it doesn’t want to move like a foot should, probably making it hard for you to walk.”

 

The navy and aubergine haired young woman begins to smirk a bit, “That...is hard...for me.”

 

“I can tell.” Hank winks toward her, “Now, let’s work on the rest of the leg.”

 

Bernie motions to her partner from the hall, glad she was able to catch her eye, in order for the woman to join her. She continues her inability to perform charades, trying to mimic drinking coffee. “Oh, come on. You aren’t daft.  _ Coffee. _ ”

 

“Party games were never your strong suit, were they, Ms. Wolfe?” Fletcher asks from the nurses’ station behind her, greatly amused as he had been watching her the entire time.

 

“Oh, come now, this is the universal action for drink. She is able to finish my sentences and virtually read my thoughts, so she should be getting that I mean coffee. She needs to leave the poor physiotherapist alone.” The blonde tries again, only to see her partner lift her magazine to cover her eyes. “Damn it, Serena.” She mumbles.

 

He smirks, “Heard you went up to Recovery. How is Cameron fairing?”

 

“Not a fast healer like me, takes after his father with that, but he’ll be fine.” Bernie nods, “Thanks for asking...and, hypothetically, letting us know he was there in the first place.”

 

“Oh, I told you nothing because I was told not to say anything to his parents.” Fletch nods, “Informing my patient’s sister was a different beast entirely.” Shrugging a little, “There’s ways around everything really. Must say, I’m pretty good at finding those alternative routes.”

 

“I believe it’s a necessity in our line of work...and by that, I mean parenthood.” The corner of Bernie’s mouth turns up, amused.

 

“Ain’t that the truth.” 


	16. Chapter 16

“I was able to coerce your parents into going out to dinner. A person can only eat so much hospital food before it starts making them feel like a patient.” Frieda nods to her friend, glancing over to the other side of the room to the young woman’s brother. “Bet you’re glad he’s sleeping.”

 

“Thrilled.” Charlie smirks a little, watching as the doctor adjusts the supplements going into her feeding tube. “He can be too worried.” Her speech slow, but she’s happy with herself for managing to get the words out at all.

 

She hums, “With good reason, I think.” The raven haired doctor raises an eyebrow, “I told Fletch I’d do this tonight...he went home to his kids, for a change.” She pauses, “Turns out, I don’t really enjoy it.”

 

“Just...for the...chin wag.” The young woman chortles lightly, knowing she’s much less than that in her current state.

 

“You start speech-language pathology tomorrow. Are you prepared for that?”

 

“No...My...mind feels...sharper.” Charlie explains, “Somewhat. My mouth...does not want...to co..co-op...”

 

“Cooperate.” Frieda nods, “I can tell.”

 

“Listen. I...have favor...to ask.” She bites her lip a little, searching for the words in her head for a moment before saying them, “Remember...the music...I record...recorded?” Seeing the other woman nod, she takes a deep breath before continuing, “Tell them...how to find...find them.”

 

“You said you wanted at least 8 tracks first.” She shakes her head slowly, “You have two more to record and it can wait until you do so.”

 

Charlie smirks a little to herself, “You and I...both...know. Not going to...happen.”

 

“Well, you’re already doing much better than what they thought you would be doing.” Frieda finally hangs the nutrition pack to the IV pole with the other bags of fluid. “You’re going to start speech pathology and you’re going to be singing again.” Taking a seat in the vinyl chair beside the bed, she continues, “You’re going to be even better than before.”

 

“Like the...Bionic Woman?” She raises an eyebrow, “No, I’m...a real...realist.”

 

The raven haired doctor nods, “As am I.”

 

“You’re being...opti-” Charlie pauses, knowing it’s going to take a bit to get the word out. “Opti...mistic.” She does her best not to emotionally break down a bit, just frustrated with the barrier her mind is creating. The young woman starts to breathe deeper from her nasal cannula. She makes a fist, looking away from the other woman, toward her brother. “He needs...the eye.” The young woman pauses, “The...atten...attention.”

 

“Why?” Frieda folds her arms across her chest.

 

“He...never...has it.” She blinks, “Deserves it.”

 

“Your condition is far more...severe than his. That’s why you have the attention.” The doctor shakes her head, “Did you think otherwise?”

 

“He matters more.” Charlie manages in one go, anger rising within her, She isn’t sure if it’s real anger or just frustration though. Her emotions are mostly out of whack anymore. “He does. He...matters more.”

 

Frieda sighs softly, reaching over to gently touch her friend’s hand. “You’re worrying about things that do not matter.” She shakes her head, “You are both here. No one will be tended to more or less than the other. That is why you are both here and not two different floors.” She leans back, folding her arms again, “So that you would not worry...and it would be easier on your family.”

 

She lazily turns her head to look toward her friend again, “There must...come...a time.” She winces a little, having been pushing herself more during this conversation than she has in days. “When we stop. I can’t...keep going like...like this.”

 

The raven haired doctor doesn’t falter, doesn’t flinch. She takes the statement seriously, not wanting to mock her line of thought. “Think it over. You need to...before you say something like that. Would you like for me to have Psych come up? We don’t have to tell your parents if you don’t want to, but I want to be sure that you’re making these decisions with a clear mindset and full capacity.” She pauses, “Can you do that for me?” Seeing a slight nod from the patient, she flashes a quick, closed mouth smile. “Thank you.”

 

“Honestly, you can’t-” Serena grins toward her partner as they enter the hospital room, quickly noticing Cameron sleeping, she quiets herself, “bugger, he’s not going to be able to drink this...nearly melted smoothie anymore.” 

 

“That implies that he would want the melted smoothie in the first place.” Bernie shakes her head, leaning down to kiss her aware daughter at her eyebrow. “You aren’t allowed one just yet...Though, I imagine you wouldn’t want a nearly melted kale based smoothie anyway. It’s juice now. Who wants kale juice?” She makes a playful, disgusted face. Bernie lifts her head to the younger doctor next to the bed, “Thank you for staying with her, Frieda.”

 

“It’s always a pleasure.” Petrenko abruptly stands from her seat, giving her friend a quick wink before leaving. Not wanting to stay in the room any longer than she needed to be. She makes her way to the staff locker room, folding her arms in thought. Conflicted.

 

“There is absolutely nothing wrong with the smoothie...or juice. Whatever it is you want to call this concoction.” Serena takes a sip of the drink, “There are other things besides kale, Berenice. Apples, blueberries, blackberries. It’s absolutely delicious and you’re missing out.”

 

“Oh, I’m absolutely shattered.” Bernie mocks being heartbroken as she sits on the side of her daughter’s bed.

 

Charlie begins to smile toward the women, “What...eat?”

 

“Well, this one wanted to go to that newer healthy place a few blocks away. Lured me there under false pretenses.” The blonde explains, “I had a wrap. A wrap is a salad that pretends it’s a sandwich. No, that’s what we usually have at lunchtime. We could have went somewhere more...interesting.”

 

Serena tries to make her case to the young woman in the bed, “She loved it. She had soup with that wrap and chose everything that went into that wrap.” She glances to her girlfriend, who is now glancing to her, “So, if you were unhappy with your meal, it is because of your own decisions.”

 

Bernie playfully scowls, “Forcing healthy options on me. How dare you, Campbell.”

 

The silver haired woman dramatically rolls her eyes as she moves over to the end of Cameron’s hospital bed, curiously taking a look at his chart. “Get over it.”

 

Frieda returns to the nurses’ station in the middle of the unit, watching the room containing her friend before she picks up the telephone at the desk. She makes arrangements for someone from Psych to evaluate her friend very late at night, after her parents have left. Petrenko decides she’ll insist for them to go home tonight. Maybe since Cameron is there, they will listen to her. She returns the telephone to its receiver after speaking for a few moments.  _ Please, be the injury talking. I don’t want to fill out those types of papers with you, Charlie Wolfe. _


	17. Chapter 17

“Well, that’s the last question from my paper of many questions.” The older woman, Francis “Frank” Correa, Psychiatric consultant, smiles a bit toward her patient, wanting to keep a calm and relaxed aura about the room. Her voice quiet enough that the other half shouldn’t hear her, but she’s also pulled the curtain, “I have a couple silly ones now, if it’s all the same to you, and I want you to take as much time as you need with them.”

 

“Okay.” Charlie watches the woman, still unsure about her, but knowing she’s also just doing this as a formality for Frieda Petrenko.

 

“What is your favorite color?”

 

The younger woman begins to smirk, “I...don’t know...if I ‘ave one.”

 

The consultant nods, “Okay, what about your favorite food?”

 

“Pizza...with apples.” Charlie pauses a moment, realizing it doesn’t sound right, “Pi...pine...pineapples.”

 

“I was about to say how I’ve never tried it with apples.” Frank hums her gentle amusement. “I prefer mushrooms.”

 

“Like...like too.” She’s trying so hard to keep up with just simple conversation. Putting her absolute all into it.

 

“My husband loves pineapple and ham on his pizza. Goes absolutely mad over it.” She nods, “You’re doing really well by the way. I just have a few more.” She’s keeping this casual, not writing these answers down. Not really caring about the answers to be honest. “Do you remember what brought you in this time?”

 

“I...” Charlie closes her eyes a moment, trying to remember, trying to think of anything. “Bleed?”

 

“Very good. Where was your bleed located?”

 

“Inside my head.” She seems a bit downcast with the words, “Always...always there.”

 

Frank nods again, “I can tell the thought bothers you quite a bit.” She leans her elbows on the side of the bed, “Worst thing that’s ever happened to me was children, but I’m not allowed to call it the worst. I just have a scar on my pelvis that still aches on occasion after thirty years and I’m supposed to call it a blessing.” She notices she’s amused the much younger patient, this is going well. “Last one...and you aren’t going to hurt my feelings no matter what.” She pauses, “What’s my name, Charlie?”

 

Charlotte blinks, staring at the woman’s face, searching her broken mind for some resemblance of an answer, “Kathy.” She doesn’t know where the name is from in her head, not knowing if she’s correct or incorrect or what correct could possibly be. She feels herself beginning to well with tears, knowing she simply can’t remember.

 

“You were close. It’s okay.” There was no way, with her current TBI, that this young woman was in any shape for making important decisions about her own life on her own. “It’s Frank, which...I can’t help but have a laugh about. You’re Charlie, your Mum is Bernie, and I’m Frank. Bunch of tough guys, we are.”

 

Her emotion rapidly changes to being amused again, without even missing a beat. “I used to...call my...call my broth...brother...” She pauses, knowing it’s on the tip of her tongue, “Camilla.”

 

“Well, he looks like a Camilla just like you look like a Charlie.” Frank grins, “I have six children. I used to forget who was who after the third. Three boys and three girls....well, one of my boys was born one of my girls, so they’ve evened out over the years...like the Brady Bunch. However, I don’t believe I take after Florence Henderson at all.”

 

“She...wasn’t real. You are.” Charlie offers, feeling herself start to become exhausted.

 

“Can I tell you something? A story of sorts.” Noticing her patient show interest, she continues, “I understand your reasoning for wanting to fill out a DNAR form. I really do. However, I really don’t think you should.” Frank has no intention of clearing her of sound mind. However, she wants her to make the decision for herself, “When my husband had cancer, stomach cancer, it got pretty bad. They would open him up to do a chemo bath on his guts. Which is...ya know...proper gross.” She smiles a bit, “I knew he was a no nonsense kind of man. Always has been. He has more black clothing than you can shake a stick at, and I was never really sure if he was a goth or a biker...and I’ve been with the man since I was seventeen.” She takes a deep breath, “He brought up signing a DNAR and I told him that it was his decision. That his family and friends would be heartbroken, but it wasn’t about us. It was always about his own happiness. Then, our youngest daughter, all of fifteen at the time, told us she was pregnant.” Frank has told this story to many patients many times, especially the ones that had a hard time speaking or were reluctant to do so. The ones that had a chance. A sense of personal experience goes a long way in those situations, in most situations really. She somehow manages to keep it fresh every time.

 

The young woman couldn’t be happier that her therapist was doing most of the talking since she didn’t have much strength to do so, “Were you upset?”

 

“No, couldn’t be.” She smirks, “She was terrified and my husband threw the clipboard across the room with the papers on it, unsigned. Not out of anger, but because of the thought that he could miss all that otherwise. Miss being a grandfather for the first time.” Frank nods, “He got better, Charlie. He’s still alive and kicking today...don’t I know it.” She rolls her eyes playfully, “My granddaughter is three now. The apple of her grandfather’s eye. They work on his motorcycles together, go on rides. He even bought her a helmet and a sidecar. Only for her. None of the others, myself included, are allowed to ride in it.”

 

“I don’t...expect kids...anymore.” Charlie admits, a slight sadness to her expression.

 

“Had my husband signed that DNAR, he wouldn’t have gotten to even see her. He ended up having a reaction during one of his treatments a week or so after all that happened. They needed to resuscitate him. He would have missed out on all that life because he thought he was finished living.” Frank explains, “It will be frustrating for you. It will be a fight, but I know that deep down in your heart, you aren’t ready to give up your rights as the keeper of your key to life.” She pauses, “However, it’s ultimately your decision as the keeper. Always your decision, but that key is precious.”

 

“I know.” Her voice soft, understanding of the woman’s words.

 

“I’m going to let you rest for the night, okay? We can talk whenever you want though. I’ll tell the desk my personal number on standby for you to reach me whenever you want to talk...or listen. Absolutely any time. Just try not to at three in the morning.” Frank smirks, “I’ll just have gotten to bed form all my partying, you see.” She pulls the curtain back, opening the space between the siblings in the room.

 

Charlie grins, tiredly, “Ditto.”

 

Cameron hears the doctor leave, having been listening to the entire session. He had no idea his sister was thinking of a DNAR. He feels like he should tell his mother or Serena, whoever would do a better job of talking her out of it. He refuses to lose his sister. The young man continues to feign sleep, hoping his sister believes it.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a little Friday special. I'll still do one on Sunday, but just thought you'd like something to tie you over. Bit of mother/son bonding.

Bernie holds out sunglasses toward her son as he rests in a wheelchair. They had moved him just to give him a change of scenery, but only to the employee kitchenette. Something was better than nothing though. “How about I take you round the garden?

 

Cameron smirks a bit towards his mother, raising an eyebrow. “I’m allowed some fresh Holby City air?”

 

“Unless you’d rather stay in here...drinking your weight in tea.”

 

“Let’s go. Please. Anything to get out of here, even for a little bit.” He shakes his head, sliding the sunglasses onto his face as his mother pushes his wheelchair. “Does it feel weird? Pushing me instead of Charlie, I mean.”

 

She hums a little, amused, “You know, it does a bit.” Pushing the chair to the elevator, “When she decides she wants to use it. The girl is so stubborn, when she puts her mind to something, she fixates until she accomplishes it.” She sighs softly, “No matter, it’s really nice outside today and I’m glad you’re finally able to break out for a bit.”

 

“Tell me about it.” Cam nods, “Everything within me wants me to get up and go...anywhere except here and I just can’t.” He shrugs a little, “I don’t like staying still.”

 

“Me either.” Bernie smirks a little, “This is the longest I’ve stayed in one place, I think. Here and when I was in France with Serena.” She pauses, “And the times I was on leave when you were small. Probably wouldn’t remember that very much though.”

 

“Pretty much.” He replies softly, feeling the need to change the subject, “So, Holby has a garden now?”

 

“We had the garden when you worked here as well.” She furrows her brow, “Or has all that travel and fresh air gotten you to forget?”

 

“No, I just...” Cam shakes his head, “I’m pretty high right now and...I really liked Morven. We had...crept out here from time to time. She’s the only one I ever felt got away from me...I should have tried harder for her.” He responds honestly, “She was too emotionally scarred to move into a relationship at the time...and I don’t blame her. I wasn’t at a point in my life where I was ready to settle. Don’t know if I’ll ever get to that point completely, but...I may be getting there someday soon.”

 

“Understandable.” Bernie nods, finally reaching the Arthur Digby Memorial Garden with her son. It was still as nice as it always seems and on days like today, there was something even more special about it. “We all have those people, I think. Had I stayed with the one I thought was my  _ one-that-got-away _ , however, I wouldn’t have given Serena the time of day. Which...would have been the worst mistake I’ve ever made.” She takes a seat on a bench across from him, leaning back, “Instead, I’ve a list of other terrible mistakes I’ve made in my life. So...damned if you do, damned if you don’t, I suppose.”

 

He snorts, amused by his mother, “Something like that.”

 

She clears her throat after a moment or so of silence, just taking in the sunlight, “I managed to look into your friend. The name you gave me a few days ago.”

 

“I asked you to help him, not look into him.” Cameron responds, completely relaxed. His face looking towards the sky with his eyes closed beneath his sunglasses.

 

“He shot you.”

 

“I know.”

 

Bernie smirks a little, of course her son would care more about the man’s wellbeing. Glancing over toward her son, she folds her arms, “I served with him. Treated him.” She pauses, “I couldn’t figure out why the name sounded so familiar to me. I called my...contact and...I finally realized I treated him in Afghanistan. Few months before I was medevaced back here, actually.”

 

Cameron lowers his head to finally look toward his mother, “Seriously?”

 

She nods, “Bullet grazed his temple. We stabilized him, stopped bleeding the best we could, but I never knew what had happened to him or...even if he survived.” Bernie meets her son’s eyes even through sunglasses, “And now I’ve learned that he was busy wounding my only son.”

 

“He was sick.” He shakes his head, “Believe me, Mum. Something was very wrong. Blood trickled from his ear and he was in immense pain. Not anything that...” Cam shrugs, “He needs care. Probably not anything I could have tended to at the time. I’m guessing a bleed of some sort...not unlike Charlie.”

 

Bernie can’t help but smirk a little, “You’d be absolutely correct. He’s currently on Keller ITU. They haven’t been able to find any family members and he hasn’t offered any names either. Police have been guarding the door.”

 

“That’s unnecessary. I’m not even pressing charges.” Cam sighs.

 

“It isn’t just about you in this instance, Cameron. He endangered the lives of the other people that were in there. Not to mention the nurse that was working with you-”

 

“Who was blocking people she didn’t deem worthy from getting care.”

 

Bernie bites the inside of her cheek, “Let me guess, you want to go see him.” She notices his slight nod, “Fine, just...wait a bit. Let’s spend a few minutes out here together.”

 

Cameron smirks to himself, “Thank you, Mum.” It’s times like this, when it’s just the two of them alone, that he fully recognizes just how similar he is to her. These times come few and far between for them, usually with him running or sneaking away from her just to refrain from these moments. Not being able to do that is probably a very good thing. “So...Psych came up to talk to Charlie last night.”

 

The blonde raises an eyebrow, “Oh?”

 

He knows he shouldn’t have said anything. That he’s already started this line of discussion and has a terrible poker face. “She um...Wait, promise not to tell her I told you or...even bring it up to her. Yeah?” Noticing her slight nod, he feels disappointed in himself immediately. “She’s going to kill me.”

 

“She can hardly move, Cam, much less try to square up with you. I think you’re safe.” Bernie turns to the side to better face him, elbow resting on the back of the bench with her fist against her jaw. “I’m not going to be happy about this, am I?” It wasn’t a question, more of a statement.

 

“I feel like...I feel like you need to know.” Cam says honestly, taking a deep breath. “She wants to sign a DNAR form.”

 

The blonde sits up a bit straighter, “If Psych evaluated, she must have said something to someone else.” She tightens her jaw for a moment, “Petrenko.” She whispers to herself, feeling her eyes moisten with the thought that her daughter would even consider. “There’s no way she should be cleared for that. Did it sound as if the consultant would clear her?”

 

He shrugs a little, “I listened to what I could, but I don’t know. I don’t think so though. Couldn’t remember the doctor’s name after speaking to her for an hour.

 

Bernie sighs a little, “It’s one thing after another with that girl.” She mumbles to herself mostly, knowing her son could hear her, “Thank you, Cam, for telling me and not keeping this to yourself as one of those...sibling promises the two of you have.”

 

Cameron nods, “One of those promises, actually. If we ever think the other makes a bad decision, we’re allowed to tell someone else. I tried to stop her from getting tattoos, but we see how that went...also the piercings. She threatened to hit me when I told Dad.” He flashes his attempt at a reassuring smile toward his mother. “I think she’ll be okay though...just make sure she knows that she isn’t a burden.”

 

“That’s the thing, Cam, I’ve told her a hundred times...as has Serena.” She surprises herself that she’s willing to vent like this to her son, of all people. “I’d die for either one of you and...to think she’s willing to give up because we’re tending to her...”

 

“She also has a TBI, Mum.” He offers, shrugging a little, “You told me yourself not long after her first injury, that her emotions weren’t stable. Usually she wanted only you or her  _ Mum’s Girl _ ...like a toddler, but sometimes she’d want to be alone and be furious with you for no reason whatsoever. Maybe this is like that. Maybe she’ll forget...one of her other best qualities.”

 

“Let’s hope that’s all this is.” Bernie licks her lips, sitting back fully on the bench.  _ That has to be all this is _ , she thinks to herself. She’ll speak with Petrenko tomorrow. Today, she needs to be with her children. Nothing she’s ever thought she would think, but how these times have changed. Bernie knows her next line of information needs to be Serena and her girlfriend wasn’t going to be happy with the thought in the least.


	19. Chapter 19

Serena sits at the young woman’s bedside while Bernie is with Cameron, “I think your father is terrified that Abbey will write him a terrible letter of recommendation if he decides to leave Holby. I can’t really tell if he actually wants to work here.”

 

“He doesn’t li...like being...in charge.” Charlie replies languidly, watching the pages of the cheap celebrity magazine that Serena was slowly flipping through the pages of. Something was better than nothing, especially spending time with Serena as a whole. Whether she knew that or not. “I...like her...dress.”

 

“The blue one? Me too. There’s something about that beautiful bright cobalt color that I adore.” She smirks a little, “Thought about doing the lounge in it, but...” She shakes her head a little, unable to say that she hasn’t changed a single thing except for more pictures, since Elinor had died.

 

The aubergine and navy haired young woman hums, “Slipcovers...new side...side tables.”

 

“Seems I’m rubbing off a bit on you, Ms. Wolfe.” Serena smiles to herself a little, “That’s a brilliant idea. Will you help me choose things this time around? Fresh set of eyes would help, I reckon. You’ve a great pair. I’ve seen your artwork.” She pauses, “Maybe I could use a piece or two of yours? Would you mind if I did that?”

 

“It...isn’t good.” Charlie furrows her brow a little, “They aren’t.”

 

“I beg to differ.” She winks toward the young girl, flipping to another page and drawing her attention back to the cheap celebrity rag, “Oh, look at that one. Hem so short, the world is her gynecologist.” She mumbles toward the end.

 

The girl with the multicolored hair chuckles, probably the hardest she has since being readmitted, “Not wrong.”

 

“I meant to ask you, how did speech pathology go?” Serena attempts, “Mostly introductions?” 

 

“Yeah.” Charlie watches her, lazily reaching over to run her nails through the woman’s hair a little. This woman bringing her a great sense of calm. Probably since she knows that Serena Campbell had saved her life on many occasions and actually wanted her for herself. Not the idea of what she once was and will never get back to.

 

The silver haired woman leans her head closer, letting her have better access. She isn’t certain what Charlie is even doing, but knows it could be just one of the things to keep herself occupied, “Might be different when you come home. I may take you up on your advice for the slip covers.”

 

_ If I come home. _ “Find better...art.” She smiles a little, “I missed...having nails.”

 

“They have grown a bit, haven’t they?” Serena smirks, “We only trim them a bit because we’re going to have to lift you and we don’t want you accidentally scratching us nor yourself during a seizure.” She explains simply, “Once things have calmed down with you, which they really are starting to...you haven’t had a seizure in a bit over a day. No violent ones at least. One focal that Fletch caught.” Serena nods, ‘You’re doing incredibly well, Charlie, all things considering.” Lifting her head a little to look the young woman in the eyes, “You know that, don’t you?”

 

Charlie’s facial expression doesn’t change and she isn’t sure if she could even reply, or if she should. “Nail varn...varnish.” She holds her hand out slowly, “Can we?”

 

The silver haired woman notices how the young woman doesn’t answer the question, “I’m certain I can find whatever color you’d like.” She takes a moment to look into the eyes of her near step-daughter, “Charlotte, answer me, do you know that you’re recovering exceptionally?” Noticing the young woman shake her head negatively, she continues, “Why don’t you believe that?”

 

“Doesn’t feel...like it.” Her eyes flood, but that’s the extent of her sadness. “You...de...deserve better.” She retains a soft smile on her face. “You and Mum...see the...world. Not,” She sighs, frustrated with the amount of time it’s taking for her to get the thought out, “Not tend...to an...adult...infant.”

 

Serena furrows her brow, slightly glad that Bernie wasn’t here to hear this conversation, “Charlotte, listen to me. I’ve never lied to you.” Her voice calm and reassuring, “I’m not about to start now.” She reaches up, gently wiping the tear that has escaped the young woman’s eye with her thumb. “I have no intention of seeing the world, just the occasional jaunt to France or...Nairobi to check on that place your mother started, maybe.” She smirks a little, “When Elinor died, I thought of how I would have continued to tend to her. If there was even the slightest chance that she could wake, I’d have bought whatever she needed at home and...I’d have done it all on my own. Just...just to have more time with her.” Surprising herself, she’s able to keep herself from breaking into a sob. Able to keep calm for once.

 

“I’m not...Elinor.” Charlie’s face looks blank now as she continues to focus on the woman in front of her.

 

“No, you aren’t.” She shows an amused expression, adjusting her position to be closer to the younger woman, “You’re my Charlie...and I will do whatever is needed to ensure that you’re able to come home with us. Bernie and I...that’s all we want. We’d give this hospital up in a heartbeat if it meant you needed round the clock care from us. Not because we need to, but because we want to. We’d do the same for Cameron, but...he’s a bit of a pain, isn’t he?” She’s glad it elicits a soft chuckle from the young woman. “Besides, we’ve been caring for you all this time. We have a routine. Why would I want to break that?”

 

“Promise?” The words breathy, nearly a whisper.

 

“Absolutely. You have a room and a life with us now, Charlie. I’d never want to change that or give that up. Never ever.” Serena pushes a bit of hair from the young woman’s face, knowing she needs to change the subject, “Roxanna mentioned removing the bandage tonight. What say you?”

 

“How will...I keep...hair from...my face?” Charlie begins to smile when the other woman gives a quick amused sound.

 

“Still have that Wolfe sense of humor, I see.”

 

“Can’t take...that...from me.” The young woman motions to the magazine they were reading before, “We weren’t...finished with that.”

 

Serena takes hold of the rag mag once more, opening it to where they left off. She knows these feelings and emotions are common for someone in Charlotte’s predicament, but it hurt to hear her actually utter the thoughts she’s been internalizing. Serena knows she needs to speak with Bernie about this, but isn’t exactly sure how to go about it.


	20. Chapter 20

“Speech pathology said you did rather well for your first go.” Roxanna MacMillan examines the healing stitches of her younger patient’s scalp. “I suppose they were expecting some...completely mute individual when I game them your file, but...you seem to prove us wrong time and time again.”

 

“You...flatter me.” Charlie hisses when the surgeon touches a tender area.

 

“I’m so sorry.” She stands back upright, “stitches are healing beautifully.”

 

“So I go...home.”

 

“Not quite.” Roxanna shakes her head, “I want to keep you here for your therapies and to...figure out what works best.”

 

Marcus folds his arms, sitting not far from his daughter. Able to visit during his lunch period. He’s glad that he’s here for this with his daughter. Feeling useless otherwise since he couldn’t take as much time off as the women could, “Maybe a care home this time, Char? It would allow you to receive proper round-the-clock care, give us all peace of mind.”

 

Charlie’s heart monitor increases a bit, showing her becoming emotional. “No...I...I don’t-”

 

“Okay, just relax.” Roxanna tries to calm the situation, “You have plenty of time to think about it.” She sighs, wishing the man would just keep quiet. “Mr. Dunn, maybe it would be better for you to wait in the hall while I do my patient assessment.”

 

“No, I haven’t been able to get up here with her awake. I’m not going anywhere.” He shakes his head, “Charlie, calm down. You’re overreacting.” His tone has a certain coldness to it, like a parent scolding a toddler instead of just treating her kindly. The stress of perfection getting to him.

 

“I...” The young woman doesn’t calm down. She’s unable to. Tears begin to pulls in her eyes and she feels Roxanna replace her nasal cannula with a full mask.

 

“Just breathe deeply.” Roxanna continues to try to mellow the young woman.

 

“Mum...want Mum...” Full on sobbing begins with Charlotte. Her traumatic brain injury makes her emotions set themselves to extremes even though it could be over a simple matter. “Need Mum.” She nearly chants, though she follows the directions given to her by her surgeon.

 

“You don’t need her, Char. Didn’t have her for years and now she’s all you want.” Marcus shakes his head, “What about me? The one who was actually there for you. The one you talked to about boys and cried to when that one girl called things off with you. Not your Mum or her girlfriend. It was me.”

 

“Okay.” Roxanna pauses, finally staring toward him with a slight scowl, “You need to go.”

 

“I’m not-”

 

“You’re causing her more stress than she needs. It seems you have some things to figure out before I’ll allow you back to see her-”

 

Marcus shakes his head, “I’ll be damned if you’re going to keep me from my daughter. My children are my everything.”

 

“Then act like it.” Roxanna’s simple words cut him and she knows it. He deserves it right now. “Right now, your behavior isn’t what’s best for Charlotte. It would be better if you went elsewhere and cool yourself down.” She finds herself sighing a bit, “You want what’s best for your daughter, what’s best is that she’s calm and everything around her is calm.”

 

He notices his daughter still having a hard time, wanting to stand his ground, but honestly not knowing what he should do.

 

Charlie reaches up, lazily moving the mask a bit, “Want...Mum’s girl.” She doesn’t look toward her father, feeling terrified of the man and his behavior. “Go. Go, please.” She trembles a little, unsure if she’s even able to look at him, much less address him properly.

 

“I’m tired of this, Charlotte. I’m tired of this game you’re playing.” Marcus folds his arms over his chest, his voice rising a bit. “I hardly recognize you anymore. You were always  _ my _ girl. Daddy’s Girl through and through and...now you suddenly hardly know who I am. I don’t understand it except that you’re faking this to get your way.”

 

Abigail Tate picks her head up from her place at the nurse’s station, having been going through some patient files and attempting to prioritize them. However, the raised voice captures her attention. She nearly storms toward the secluded room, seeing Roxanna there, appearing protective yet helpless in the situation. “Hello, everyone.” She says as she aggressively pushes open the door, retaining a calm outward appearance otherwise.  _ Just break up the tension and get this man out of this room. _ She knows he would never injure his daughter intentionally, but she also knows that one of the main triggers of Charlotte’s seizures is anxiety. It’s even noted in her charts.

 

The man sighs a little,  _ of course she was just outside. _ He folds his arms over his chest, “Ms. Tate.” His tone far more quiet than just a moment prior.

 

She glances over to the young woman in the bed, “Charlotte, you’re looking amazing, as always. Mind if I borrow your Dad for a moment?” Abigail doesn’t wait for the young patient to respond, her eyes fixed on the man as he walks past her, leaving the room. She leans in, “Charlie, Serena only ran to grab a coffee, I know that because she’s grabbing the two of us a cuppa as well,” She motions between herself and Roxanna, “and your Mum is still with Cameron...I think I saw them taking a bit of a stroll outside, but they should be back soon as well. Okay?”

 

Charlotte glances toward the woman, knowing she already feels safer before whispering, “Yeah.”

 

“Very good. Be back in a bit.” Abigail gives the young woman’s leg a quick rub through the blanket covering her frame as a sign of camaraderie. She steps just outside the door, securing it behind her before noticing the man pacing with his arms folded at the end of the hall. “Mr. Dunn, my office, now.”


	21. Chapter 21

John Brittingham rests in his hospital bed. Thinking of what his future will entail now that he’s a murderer. That’s the only explanation he can think of that would justify the guards at the entrance to his room. He opens his eyes, noticing someone in a wheelchair sitting there. “Bloody hell.” He whispers to himself.

 

“Hello, John.” Cameron smiles genuinely toward the man.

 

He seems terrified, unsure if his mind is playing tricks on him. “Are you haunting me?”

 

The younger man furrows his brow, his smile fading ever so slightly, “I’m sorry, haunting you?”

 

“It was an accident. If I was in the right mindset, it would have never happened.” John shakes his head, “Listen, mate. You don’t need to haunt me about it. I’m incredibly remorseful for killing you.” He pauses, “I’ve killed lots of people. It was an order for them. I didn’t mean it with you.”

 

“What? No. I’m not dead, John.” Cam reaches a hand out, offering the man to touch him, to see that he’s real. “No, you just got a bit of my liver, is all. I’m totally fine. I’ve just been on a different floor.”

 

Bernie returns her mobile to her pocket, sighing as she reenters the room, “I’m sorry. Cam, I’m going to need to make this quick and have a porter take you back up when you’re ready. Seems Ms. Tate caught Marcus...acting out again. I’m not entirely certain what happened, but Serena’s heading up as well.”

 

“No problem.”

 

The blonde turns her attention to the man in the bed, “Lieutenant, I’ve been told you’re being a bit...cagey with information regarding history. Why is that?”

 

John furrows his brow a little, turning protective, “They don’t need to know it.”

 

“Except they do. This isn’t your first cranial injury. Luckily, I was able to give them a heads up.” Bernie keeps her hands at her sides, “You have four daughters and an ex-wife. You divorced before heading out on tour and went so that your children would have benefits. Your eldest daughter was eight when you left, your youngest two. They’re now twenty-six and nineteen respectively. Meaning your other daughters, the twins, are twenty three. All of them have the ability to look after you once you leave this facility.”

 

He appears nervous, swallowing, “How do you know all of that?”

 

“I can tell you more if you’d like.” Her tone remains calm, tempting the man to  _ mess _ with her.

 

“Who are you?”

 

“My name is Major Berenice Wolfe and it doesn’t matter really because you shot my son...and instead of him wanting to press charges, he’s seen to it that you receive the help you need. It’s just a matter of you being...honest with us instead of blocking every attempt we, as a hospital, make to get you cared for.” Bernie folds her arms over her chest, “You were discharged a few months before I left the military career life. You suffered a graze wound to the temple, which your doctors were able to ascertain from your scar.”

 

“Wait...did you serve in Afghanistan?” John tries to sit himself up a bit.

 

“I treated you there.” She nods a little, “Small world.”

 

“I’ll say.” 

 

Cameron listens between the two, “My Mum is going to see to it that you receive the treatment you need in terms of psychological care, housing assistance, and even finding a job if you’d like.” He nods, “Do you think you could go through with something like that?”

 

“Why are you being so kind?” John leans his head back again, “I shot you.”

 

“That’s what I said.” Bernie raises an eyebrow, “I’ve got to go. I’ll follow up with you during the week.” She makes her exit through the open doorway, unsure of what she’s about to walk into in regards to the CEO’s office.

 

“And I saw a troubled man before you did.” Cam says honestly, “I saw a man who had nothing else to live for and just wanted to end his own suffering. Even if that meant to harm yourself. That gun wasn’t meant for me or my nurse...it was meant for yourself.”

 

“How did you-” The older man swallows, his jaw tightening, “What does it matter? My children don’t know me. They call someone else their father. I...don’t do well with other people-”

 

“When my Mum was brought back from Afghanistan, it was via helicopter and she was blown up by an IED. She had an unstable neck fracture and cardiac pseudoaneurysm. My sister and I thought she was going to die. There was no question. One of the first times I ever saw my sister, as an adult, cry.” His tone sincere, “And I realized there was so much I didn’t know about her...I didn’t know my own mother. Not because she and my father were divorced or separated at the time, that came after, but because of her time away. My father...kept pretty quiet about what was happening there. Kept quiet about how they were together.”

 

“Bad luck to talk about someone while they’re stationed away.” John explains before going quiet for a moment, “Do you really think my children will...want to know me?”

 

“Worth a shot, isn’t it?” Cam smirks, “No pun intended. We can start with the oldest and work our way on down...or I can have my Mum look into their current living situations. Feel out what our chances are.”

 

“Why would your Mum be willing to do all that for me?”

 

“Because I asked her to.” Cameron nods, “Parents go above and beyond for their children...and I don’t really ask my mother for much to begin with.”

 

John feels tears forming in his eyes before a relieved smile grows on his face, “Thank you.”


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are nearing the end of this beautiful ride, so I'll just post chapters whenever. <3 You guys.

“Your behavior, lately, seems to me like a cry for help. Except, I’m not exactly certain what you’re crying out for. I know you’re probably stressed, with two children in hospital at the same time. That’s why we put them in the same room, to make it easy for you. You’re able to come up during your lunch period or after work and sit with them as long as you like. I’ve even told staff to allow you to stay over if you’d like.” Abigail sits on the sofa within the confines of her office. “You can not lash out at your daughter. That isn’t an answer to anything.”

 

“How did he lash out, exactly?” Serena keeps her tone and facial expressions neutral, her managerial background coming into play here, “What was said?”

 

When she notices the man look away, “Do you want to tell her, or would you rather I did?”

 

“Look, this is all a bit misunderstanding.” Marcus shakes his head, “I’ve never done it before and-”

 

“Except you have with our AAU Registrar, who you became physically violent with.” Abigail corrects him, turning her attention to Serena, she explains the context of what was said and how it was said. She explains Roxanna MacMillan’s action and Marcus Dunn’s reaction.

 

“How exactly does one fake a brain injury?” Serena tilts her head to face the man, disappointed more than anything. “Is it with her inability to walk? Her inability to control her emotions? Her speech so slow, she’s still on the same sentence five minutes after she started it? Her memory is...fuzzy at best.”

 

“You wouldn’t understand.” Marcus mumbles.

 

“I wouldn’t understand?” The silver haired woman begins a low chuckle, “I tended to my mother as she quickly degraded from vascular dementia. My daughter lost her life from untreated brain trauma. All within three years of one another. I think I’m the perfect person to point these things out to you.”

 

“Why is it that you keep wedging yourself into my family?” He shakes his head, “I can’t help but think that you’ve somehow manipulated my daughter-”

 

“Oh, come on now, Marcus.”

 

“Okay, let’s calm things down a bit.” Abigail attempts, using her hands to attempt to garner the pair’s attention.

 

“I’ve seen it, everyone has seen it. Like she goes into some sort of trance when you talk to her.” Marcus shakes his head. “That isn’t normal. She doesn’t even know your name. _Mum’s Girl_ this and _Mum’s Girl_ that.”

 

“Just because you don’t understand it, doesn’t make it abnormal.” Serena shakes her head, “And she can refer to me as whatever she pleases, as long as she’s referring to me. Did you ever think of that?” She pauses, “It just seems to me that you’re jealous.”

 

“Jealous of what?”

 

“Jealous of the life we’ve made all together...and how quickly we’ve made it.” She folds her arms over her chest, comfortably, “This has nothing to do with Charlie and everything to do with you and your anger. Instead of owning up to all of it, you’ve decided to attack me.”

 

Marcus stands, deciding he needs to move, “I’m not attacking you. I’m thinking of what’s best for my daughter.”

 

“By telling her she’s faking a traumatic brain injury? Her bleed, this time, was nearly fatal. Do you understand that?” Serena shakes her head, standing as well to move to the other side of the room. She isn’t intimidated by him, just confused by his change of attitude.

 

“An injury she wouldn’t have sustained if she were at a care home.” He begins to raise his voice slightly.

 

Abigail shakes her head, “You don’t know that, Marcus. Charlotte would routinely get out of her chair and attempt to walk on her own. She doesn’t seem the type to me that would consider wearing a helmet. Doesn’t matter where she was staying, she would still try.”

 

“You don’t know my daughter.” Marcus shakes his head.

 

“Neither do you, apparently.” Serena cuts in, “At home, with us, she had the opportunity to play her music, to sing, to write again. I bought her software for her laptop to allow her better speech to text. Hell, Bernie even purchased her a _new_ laptop that was touchscreen so she wouldn’t need to use a mouse or trackpad.” She pauses, “I told her we should get the chair lift, I had everything scheduled and paid for, but she adamantly refused. Said she didn’t want to feel like an invalid. It would have made things easier for us all in regards to her care, but if it was going to cause her that much emotional upset, then-”

 

“Emotional upset? Who the hell cares about her feelings when it comes to her getting the proper care?” He shakes his head.

 

“I care about those things because her seizures are tied to her anxiety levels. I keep telling you that, Roxanna keeps telling you that, everyone, Marcus. You just don’t seem to want to hear it.” Serena chuckles softly, bitterly. “Why don’t you want to hear it?”

 

Marcus starts walking toward her, “Because it’s bullshit. You just want to keep her with you lot. That’s all this is about. You’re stealing her from me.” He begins making fists at his sides. “Your daughter is dead and you’re attempting to steal mine.”

 

“Touch her and I’ll kill you where you stand.” Bernie says from the doorway, an unimpressed expression on her face. She nears them, placing herself between her ex-husband and her girlfriend. “Your fight isn’t with Serena or Abbey. Your fight is with me...and we’re going to settle it here and now. I won’t have you taking this back upstairs where our children are both ill.”

 

Abigail notices his change in expression once Bernie enters, she carefully takes Serena’s hand, pulling her away from the situation “I think we should let you both have the room. I’ll...we’ll be just outside.”

 

Serena doesn’t want to leave her partner alone, “You go ahead. We will try not to break anything.”

 

The CEO sighs, “Serena, come on.” For some reason, she knows Bernie has this.

 

Bernie turns, meeting her partner’s eye, “We’re just going to talk. Everything will be fine. You go on ahead.” She nods, giving her a sly wink, one she knows Marcus couldn’t see. When Serena still looks unsure, “Do you trust me?” She whispers.

 

“With my life.” Serena replies, her tone matching that of her girlfriend. She leans in, giving her a gentle kiss before leaving the room with Abigail, watching as the woman closes the door behind them. She stares at the door once it’s closed, his words hurt. His last words to her. “I’m not trying to steal her.”

 

“What?” Abigail turns, noticing her friend is having a hard time.

 

“Charlotte.” She answers simply, “I love her like my own...Cameron too, but I’m just closer to Charlotte. I’m not trying to steal her.”

 

“I know...we all know that.” The blonde places a gentle hand on her friend’s shoulder, “Something is going on with Marcus for him to behave and act out the way he’s been. Please, don’t let it get to you.”

 

“It does though.” Serena nods a little. “When he brings up...” She pauses, clearing her throat, “Let’s pop over to my office...I need a drink.”


	23. Chapter 23

“So, do you want to get all argy-bargy...or can we have an adult conversation...” Bernie continues to stand her ground, eyes set on that of her ex-husband’s. “I will tell you now, you will never go after Serena the way you did just then, again.”

 

Marcus turns, walking away from her a bit. “Cameron back to the room?” When she doesn’t answer, he turns to meet her glance again, “I just...I want my daughter back.” His tone quiet, though he’s used to putting up a brave front for his children, as he always has. “That girl in the bed upstairs...looks like my daughter, but that isn’t my little girl anymore.”

 

“Yes, she is.”

 

“No, it isn’t, Bern.” He shakes his head, “She doesn’t act like her...she doesn’t...look at me the way she did.” He falls quiet a moment. “I could do no wrong before...she was always on my side and now...it’s all about you, isn’t it? You and your...girlfriend.”

 

“Marcus...That’s our daughter. Our daughter, Marcus. The one we made together.” Bernie watches him, “The one that came home from the hospital and fell asleep in your arms. Both the day she was born and again a couple months ago. It’s the same little girl who had Dada as her first world. The one who has  _ All Dunn, All Funn _ tattooed on her arm. Extra  _ N  _ on both, of course.” She chuckles a little, “Did you know she had that?”

 

“I didn’t want her to get tattoos.” Marcus smiles softly to himself, “I try not to pay much attention to them.”

 

“She’s stubborn...gets it honestly from the both of us.” She shrugs, “The tattoos...they’re a part of her now, though. Can’t ignore them forever.” Bernie lifts her hand to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. “They all mean something to her. Each and every one of them.”

 

He swallows, finally taking a seat on the sofa, “How are you her champion and I’ve lost touch?”

 

Bernie edges herself onto the desk, “I don’t know, Marcus. However, instead of being angry about...all of it, why aren’t you talking to someone about it? Doesn’t need to be me or anyone you know, find a therapist instead. Someone we don’t know through our own connections.” She nods, “Because you can’t keep on like this. The children deserve better.”

 

“You return and...you’re the one they’ve gone to. Not me. Not the one they’ve depended on for years while you were in the middle east.” Marcus speaks with a soft, thoughtful voice. This has all been bothering him completely. “I just...see that look in her eyes. She was terrified of me upstairs and I...I didn’t care. I should have, but I didn’t.” He swallows, “And Serena a bit ago...I keep...just...I can’t control myself and I don’t know why, Bern. I’d never...normally say those things to them.”

 

“I know.” She nods, knowing she needs to get through to him just how severe the situation is, “Our daughter wants to sign a DNAR. I don’t believe she would ever be cleared for such, but...we need to keep her relaxed, anxiety free, and we need to make sure she knows that she’s needed by us. Lashing out like you did was unnecessary...and dangerous to her care.”

 

He leans back, “You think therapy would help?”

 

“I think it would be a start, yes...and you need to do it as quickly as possible.” Bernie watches him, “If they suggest medication, just do what they say. It may help you in other ways as well.”

 

Marcus exhales slowly, “I have some apologies to make.”

 

“Yes, you do.” She nods, “Then I think, maybe, it would be best if you went home for a couple of days to work on yourself. I have some clearing up to do for you in regards to Charlotte.” Bernie shrugs, “Hopefully, she’ll just forget it even happened in the first place.”

 

He falls silent a moment, “I feel like I’m failing her.”

 

“I do as well. Then she’ll smile and I know it’s all been worth it.” She explains, a bittersweet smile crossing her face, “I think you feel the same way too.” She notices him nod slightly before continuing, “I’ve made many mistakes, Marcus, I know that. However, our children are incredibly important to me and I’d protect them with my life. You know that.”

 

Marcus listens intently, nodding again. He knows the root of his problems comes with him still being in love with her after all this time...and all his heartbreak. Seeing her in his daughter was always rather difficult for him and the fact that his daughter once worshipped the ground he walked on, seemed to make things a bit better. She doesn’t do that now and he doubts she’ll ever do that again. “I just...I want my daughter back.” He feels tears in his eyes, but manages to keep them from falling, keeping appearances and all, “And...I think...I think I’m grieving for the girl she once was.”

 

“I think you are too, Marcus.” Bernie answers quietly, moving to sit next to him and placing a hand on his back, “Charlie needs you to be in top form so that we can tend to her together. This, how you are now, is not your top form. This, honestly, scares me a bit. You do know that, correct?”

 

“Yeah, Bern.” He huffs a soft sound of amusement to himself, “I couldn’t do this alone.”

 

“You wouldn’t ever need to.”

 

Marcus turns, embracing her closely. He closes his eyes, knowing if she were overseas, and things were the way they had been their entire marriage, she would have rushed home. “Thank you.”

 

“Of course.” Bernie nods, returning his hug, “No matter what, Marcus, we’re still parents. We’ll always share these two children. Meaning that we need to make sure we’re in top shape for these children. Wouldn’t you agree?” Hearing him hum a positive response, she breaks away, meeting his eye. “Let’s go ahead and give Ms. Tate her office back. I’m betting Serena will be on AAU...it’s where she keeps her Shiraz.”


	24. Chapter 24

“I’m glad you were able to talk him down.” Serena takes a sip of the red wine from her glass, eyes focusing on her girlfriend as she slides another poured glass toward her, “Come on, you deserve it.” 

 

Bernie raises her eyebrows, smirking as she lifts the glass between her fingers by the stem, “And you got an apology to boot.”

 

“That I did.”

 

The blonde pulls a chair closer to the other woman’s desk as she takes a seat, “I’m so sorry he treated you as he did.”

 

“Don’t worry about it.” Serena shakes her head, “It’s over now...and this isn’t my first glass, so if it weren’t over, I wouldn’t care anyhow.”

 

Bernie nods, red wine isn’t really her thing, but she’ll drink it anyway. She swirls the liquid in the glass, “We have the children to ourselves for a few days while Marcus works on himself.” Bernie notices her partner raise an eyebrow, “I thought you’d enjoy that a bit.”

 

“Well, seeing as I was just screamed at about stealing them, you can imagine how much more relaxed that makes me...knowing I don’t have to deal with his egotistical negativity. Also, so that Charlotte doesn’t have to be told that she’s quote  _ faking it _ unquote.” She takes another sip of her drink, “It wasn’t his antics with me, it was how he treated Charlie that angered me.”

 

“I know.” The blonde reaches over, placing her hand over her girlfriend’s as it rests atop the desk. “We have an agreement...he and I.”

 

“Two of you have gotten to be friends, have you?” Serena raises an eyebrow, amused, “Should I be worried?”

 

“About what? I didn’t like sleeping with him when I was married to him, why would I want to now?” Bernie hears her partner begin to chuckle heartily, “It wasn’t bad, it was just...uninteresting.” She smirks a little, “Best thing out of it were the children, so it was worth it...I suppose. I haven’t decided yet.”

 

She continues to hold her girlfriend’s hand tenderly, amused by the woman, “Are we crazy? Taking all this on now?”

 

“I don’t have a choice...nor do I want one. These are my children and I owe them the world.” Bernie replies quietly, “It’s stressful and...seems futile in Charlotte’s case, but...I’d regret not doing it.” Her tone honest, speaking from the heart, “Everything in my body tells me to grab you and run away from here. Go back to France, or Nairobi...or somewhere, anywhere but here. I can’t though. I can’t do that to them. Not anymore.”

 

Serena nods, “I understand.”

 

“You shouldn’t need to though.” She shakes her head, “This is so much and our relationship...is still so new. You have every right to throw in the gloves and want no parts of this.”

 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” She finds herself smirking a little. “I know that...if the tables were turned and it was Elinor...I know that you would always be there with us.”

 

Bernie smirks a little, “Couldn’t keep me away.” She leans in, tenderly capturing her girlfriend’s lips and holding her there. The coffee and truffle undertones of the wine relaxing her a bit as she pulls away slowly, rubbing her nose against that of the other woman’s, “I don’t deserve you.” She whispers against her lips.

 

Serena sets her glass down, wrapping her arms around her girlfriend in a hug, tears play at the corners of her eyes. “The feeling is mutual.” She could stay like this forever if she was allowed to, but she clears her throat, breaking away. Serena lifts up her glass, finishing off the remaining contents before standing, “I’m going to head back upstairs.” She needed to see with her own eyes that her near step-daughter was actually okay though she wouldn’t admit it.

 

Bernie chugs the rest of her wine down, probably the only way it was going to get consumed anyway. She stands as well, taking her girlfriend’s hand casually as Serena leads the way, “I’m right with you.”

 

Things weren’t going to be perfect for them. Not anymore. Not that it ever really was to begin with. There would be no honeymoon phase. There would be this. The two of them and this family they’ve managed to stitch together. They wouldn’t change a single thing, if they did, it wouldn’t be their family. It wouldn’t be their life.


End file.
